


Mark of the Damned

by princepixel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Coming of Age, Conspiracy, Falling In Love, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Mistreatment, Mutual Pining, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Protection, Rebellion, References to Abuse, Secrets, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29500815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princepixel/pseuds/princepixel
Summary: Renjun is going to die for this mistake.But then the Crown Prince’s bleary eyes crack open, and Renjun can’t regret his reckless move because whatever magic he didworked. A tender smile twitches weakly at the Prince’s lips, and his arm trembles as he lifts it to cradle Renjun’s hand against his cheek.“M’ guardian angel,” Jaemin slurs, and Renjun’s heartaches.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 123
Kudos: 183





	1. From This Day

**Author's Note:**

> welcome !!! i've been working on this baby for a long time and i'm so excited to start posting now that it's finished ! we're looking at about 86k in total hehehe
> 
> as usual i'd like to thank [sage](https://twitter.com/sungieberry) for being the absolute best cheerleader ever mwah mwah and all of my mutuals for their support !!! <3
> 
> i hope you enjoy :] buckle up, this will be quite the journey!

Huang Renjun has only ever been confident in two things: the inherent danger in shadows cast across the damp walls of the servant chambers, and the undeniable pulse of magic buzzing just beneath his skin.

He flinches at the slamming door, desperately pressing himself further into the wall as the sound of heavy boots grows louder. His wrist burns under the rough fabric of his servant’s garments, but he can’t risk adjusting the bandages yet.

It’s not safe. It rarely is.

Renjun bites his lip, sensitive ears straining to track the footsteps as they slowly fade. Once he’s certain he’s alone, he slides down the wall and melts into the floor in relief. He allows himself one wistful glance towards the looming library doors in the distance, but that’s all. He’s spent all ten years of his life within these castle walls and has yet to touch a book with his own two hands.

They simply aren’t meant for people like him.

Not all castle workers are treated as coldly as Renjun, shunned from fellow staff and confined to the bowels of the castle. Perhaps the hostility stems from his mysterious origins—a stray child found wandering amidst an unforgiving Edelian blizzard, the soldiers’ discovery aided by the tang of electricity in the air. Maybe the distrust edging the gaze of each person to brush shoulders with the boy is due to the way his eyes flash amber in the buttery glow of the rusted light bulbs, or how his canines, just a little too sharp, poke over his bottom lip.

There’s something unnatural about him.

Renjun knows it to be true even without the five glass claw marks tingling underneath the stolen bandages on his left wrist. It lurks in the way he instinctively avoids a creaky floorboard, how that bruise on his shin healed just a heartbeat too fast, the fact that in the hours of the night no one else dares to touch Renjun can finally see the fiery glow seeping from the pressure at his fingertips.

He’s still too young to understand, but that’s okay. He has more important things to dwell on, like the presence he can sense advancing down the hallway. The boots are thick heeled and sound leathery, a luxury only afforded by the royal family.

Renjun’s breath hitches in his throat before he picks up on the bouncy gait and the irregular pauses, as if the owner is chronically distracted. Though much of his anxiety bleeds away as soon as he identifies the figure, he still scrambles to scrub the tear tracks off his face and sweep himself into a deep bow. It’s a few more seconds before the person rounds the corner, and Renjun’s heart pounds as leather boots stop in his field of vision.

“Good evening!” Crown Prince Na Jaemin’s voice echoes brightly against the thick stone walls, making Renjun cringe.

“G-Good evening, Your Highness,” Renjun speaks softly, unsure if the prince considers raised voices a sign of disrespect like the rest of the royal family.

He’s never been allowed in the prince’s company before, but he’s heard from servant gossip that the boy is a little strange himself—blinding smile just a bit too genuine, heart a tinge too compassionate to rule a kingdom.

Still, he cannot afford a mistake in the presence of royalty.

The prince makes a small noise of disappointment, and Renjun braces himself for punishment. To his surprise, the prince only whines, “How did you know it was me? And you don’t have to call me that, you look even younger than me! Actually, I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Have I? It’s dark, I can’t really tell. Can you stand up? That looks uncomfortable. What’s your name?”

Renjun blinks his eyes open at the barrage of words. He hesitantly straightens up, then draws himself to full height once the prince doesn’t reprimand him.

The prince stands at about the same height as Renjun, a warm smile easily reaching his shiny brown eyes. His delicate crown is far too big for his head, slipping towards his left ear. Dark hair falls in a tangle over his forehead, and he’s shifting a huge stack of books in his arms. Renjun’s gaze can’t help but snag on the carefully embossed covers.

“My name is Jaemin,” the boy chirps, sticking out a hand from underneath the pile. His other arm trembles with the weight of the books, and he wiggles his free hand at Renjun’s trepidation.

It’s improper for someone like Renjun to touch a member of the royal family, but it must be more treacherous to disobey a request from the prince himself, right? Renjun surges forward to shake the boy’s hand, folding at the waist into another hasty bow. “My name is Renjun, Your Highness. Please, allow me to help you.”

A squeak of protest rumbles in the back of Jaemin’s throat as he jostles the books in an attempt to recenter his balance, “Oh, no, you don’t have to—”

Jaemin’s grip on the stack finally fails, and the beautiful books spill from his arms. Eyes widening, both boys scramble to catch them before anything is bent or torn. In the flurry of limbs that results, Jaemin’s elbow connects with Renjun’s nose.

Renjun draws back from the action with one hand pressed to the middle of his face, stunned. The pain only registers for a heartbeat before he’s crouched on the ground again, reaching for the fallen books with his other hand. He mentally scolds himself for showing vulnerability in front of a Na and failing to serve Jaemin properly. He’s just relieved no one else was around to see him lose his composure, or else he’d be punished swiftly.

“I’m so sorry! Hey, what are you doing down there? Are you alright?” Jaemin tugs on his outstretched hand and pulls him back to his feet. Renjun has barely opened his mouth to protest when gentle hands pull his fingers away from his throbbing nose. Jaemin is so close suddenly, brown eyes sparkling with concern as he searches Renjun’s face for any signs of pain.

Despite his best efforts to comply with the rules of his position, Renjun is still a child with feelings. His eyes water slightly at the dull pain radiating through the center of his face. It ebbs oddly quickly, but the sad whine Jaemin makes at the sight sticks to Renjun’s senses far longer.

“T-The books, Your Highness, they may be damaged,” Renjun mumbles, unable to break the intimidating eye contact as he gestures weakly to the forgotten objects at their feet, “I’m sorry, I should have been quicker—”

“What? I don’t care about the books! Are _you_ okay? That was completely my fault,” Jaemin’s fingertips brush over the bridge of Renjun’s nose, chubby fingers turning his jaw from side to side to examine his face. Frozen in place, Renjun allows Jaemin to coo over him for a moment despite the forbidden nature of the interaction searing under his skin.

A servant has no place contacting a member of the royal family for any longer than it takes to fulfill a request. It’s an unspoken rule of the castle that has been drilled into Renjun’s head ever since he could remember, and the fear of disobeying pounds harshly between his ribs.

It’s not safe.

“Oh, thank goodness, you aren’t bleeding.” Jaemin’s hands are gone too soon. The clear relief in his voice befuddles Renjun, who isn’t sure why the prince would care about a servant like himself.

Speechless, Renjun can only hold Jaemin’s gaze for another second before dropping again to collect the books. His fingers shake with reverence and longing as they touch the glossy covers. He has to remind himself of his place again and again, suppressing the itch to open each of the books in his arms and drink in words he knows he won’t be able to understand.

Jaemin’s brows furrow in confusion at the boy’s frantic motions, but he kneels down to help regardless of the dirt seeping into the knees of his fine clothing. When they stand again, Renjun is struck with the thought that their equal heights allow them to speak with each other at a perfect eye level.

“Thank you so much, Renjun!” Jaemin grins warmly at him. Renjun avoids his eyes, unsure if the fluttering in his chest is from the fear of getting caught or the blinding smile directed at him as if he’s the only person in the world.

“My pleasure, Your Highness.”

As quickly as it came, the beautiful smile is gone, and an apologetic frown marks Jaemin’s face as he speaks, “Ah, I know I just troubled you, but would you mind helping me to the library? I really should put these away, and clearly I can’t be trusted with them alone!”

“Of course, Your Highness. Why don’t I just deliver them for you? Surely there are more important things for you to do...This is a servant’s job, after all.” Renjun dips his head, and Jaemin reluctantly shifts half of the stack into Renjun’s arms. The frown lingers on Jaemin’s face even as they start towards the library.

“And miss out on spending time with my new friend? No way! And just call me Jaemin, anything else just sounds _so_ stuffy.” Jaemin blows air through his nose, shuffling in front of Renjun to gauge his reaction. When Renjun chokes on his spit, Jaemin’s small hand smacks at his back, which only makes things worse.

“That would be improper of me, Your Highness, I...” Renjun trails off as they come to the ornate wooden doors of the library. They’re almost as breathtakingly bright as the bubbly boy next to him, inlaid with gold at the edges and shining from a glossy finish and _absolutely_ off limits to someone like Renjun.

Jaemin pushes open the door with a flourish, shoulder casually pressed against it to keep it open for Renjun without dropping the books again. Renjun blinks blankly back at him.

“I...Are you sure it’s okay for me to go in there, Your Highness?”

Jaemin’s expression falls at the title before the rest of Renjun’s words register. He tilts his head cutely, lips pursing in confusion. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t you be? It’s just a library.”

Jaemin ushers Renjun through the imposing doors, but he freezes one step inside. The library is sprawling, lined with colorful books from floor to ceiling. Mahogany tables are artfully distributed between cozy chairs. The lights are slightly dimmed, gentle lamps high on the walls casting the room in a soft glow. It’s everything Renjun dreamed of when he heard of it in passing conversation from privileged servants, even better than the small peeks he stole whenever someone swung through the doors.

“It’s not my place,” Renjun tries to keep the bitterness from bleeding into his tone, but it’s futile. He gestures vaguely to the grubby rags he calls clothes hanging loosely from his frame. The bandage on his left wrist was only further disrupted in the earlier commotion, and Renjun keeps his right hand clasped over it as best as he can.

Servants only have a few sets of clothing, and it just so happens that all of Renjun’s tasks for the day had involved crawling around in the soot and grime. It’s impossible to miss, even in the dim light of the corridor.

“Oh,” the prince scans Renjun up and down as if he’s noticing the tattered servant uniform for the first time. Renjun offers a meek smile in response, already preparing to turn heel and retreat.

Of _course_ the young prince had only been kind to Renjun because he was unaware of his status. Either that, or Jaemin is both incredibly good at acting and very noble for not sneering at his filth immediately.

“That’s so unfair!” Jaemin sounds genuinely distressed, reaching out to pull Renjun further inside. “I mean the library isn’t my favorite place because it means reading and thinking, _eugh_. But they should let you in if you want to, you belong here just as much as anyone else.”

“That’s not how things work, Your Highness,” Renjun says quietly. If the few other occupants in the library have anything to say about Renjun’s presence or the way the prince is dragging him excitedly by his sleeve, they wisely turn a blind eye.

“Well, we’ll just have to change it then. Easy.” Jaemin says with all the stubbornness that comes with being ten years old and feeling on top of the world. He jabs a thumb towards himself, chest puffing up with pride, “When I’m King someday, you won’t have to worry about a thing!”

Renjun smiles shyly. “That sounds lovely, Your Highness.”

He’s all too aware that change like that will never happen, but he won’t crush Jaemin’s dreams.

Besides, he's not lying. It _does_ sound lovely.

Jaemin hums a soft melody under his breath as he parades Renjun around the library, searching for the proper spots to slot away the stray books in their arms. Multiple times, castle workers approach with bowed heads and clasped hands to offer to complete the job, but the young prince dismisses them with an easy smile and an enthusiastic wave.

“Why don’t you just drop off the books with the workers like everyone else?” Renjun asks before he can bite his tongue. He realizes too late that he had accidentally dropped the title for the young prince, and shame flushes crimson on his cheeks.

Jaemin shrugs, gaze focused on the bookshelf in front of them. “I’m free right now, and there’s no reason to make someone else’s life unnecessarily more difficult. Plus, my mom thinks I should start learning some responsibility!” The last word gets a little mangled on Jaemin’s lips, coming out as _responsabity,_ and Renjun giggles fondly.

Jaemin’s tongue pokes slightly out of the corner of his mouth as his finger trails across the spines of the books. His expression lights up when he finds the gap where the last book should go, and he turns to Renjun with outstretched hands.

Renjun hands the book over, but can’t tear his longing eyes away from it as Jaemin gently slides it into the shelf. Jaemin makes a small questioning noise when he follows Renjun’s gaze, and his uncertain fingers fall on the spine of the book he just put away. “Oh, did you want to keep this one?”

A delighted grin brightens Renjun’s face at the offer before harsh reality sinks in again. He’s not allowed to touch the books, let alone take one for himself. Even if he managed to smuggle one out, he was never taught how to read the ancient language most of the literature in the kingdom is written in.

The system is meant to keep people like Renjun away from the luxuries of such knowledge.

Renjun relays this to Jaemin, whose face grows visibly darker. He places defiant hands on his hips, leaning close to Renjun, “Well, that just won’t do.”

Renjun laughs it off, but Jaemin’s eyebrows stay furrowed in thought. Without the distraction of their book mission, Renjun becomes aware of the dirty cloth scraping against his wrist again. It seems like Jaemin also has a life to return to, if the whispered conversation a passerby draws him into is any indication.

Like the royal gentleman he’s being raised to become, Jaemin walks Renjun to the door. They both linger a little too long before parting ways and returning to their separate worlds.

“Bye-bye, Renjun! It was nice to meet you, and thank you for your help today.”

Renjun smiles even as he bows deeply, “It’s my job, Your Highness. Anything you request, it is my duty to fulfill.”

It is Renjun’s job to serve the royal family, but he can’t deny that he’s had _fun_ with Jaemin in their brief encounter—something Renjun hasn’t known in a long, long time.

“Anything?”

When Renjun straightens up, Jaemin has his arms crossed, cheeks puffed out. Renjun nods hesitantly in response, and Jaemin beams. He pulls Renjun in for a quick embrace, hugging the choked breath from the thinner boy before holding him at arm’s length.

“Call me Jaemin, Renjun. I want to be your friend! Please.” Jaemin’s doe eyes bore holes into Renjun, and he shakes Renjun’s shoulders slightly with his enthusiasm. Caught in a happy—and somewhat disoriented—daze, Renjun just smiles softly. He takes Jaemin’s hands, squeezing them gently.

An order is an order, after all.

“O-Okay. Goodbye, _Jaemin_.”

Like a shimmering mirage to a desperate man stranded in the desert, Na Jaemin feels like a dream that was too good to be true as soon as his figure disappears around the corner. His voice, however, rings loud and true, and is utterly unforgettable.

“See you soon, Injunnie!”

The subtle promise barely scrapes against Renjun’s consciousness, because all he can hear is Injunnie, Injunnie, _Injunnie._

Still floating on Jaemin’s kind words, Renjun isn’t as downtrodden as usual when he returns to the tiny shoebox that the castle passes off as a room. The prickling on his wrist is hardly soothed when he frees himself from his grubby clothes, but the smile on Renjun’s face doesn’t falter.

He still doesn’t know what the plates of glass embedded into his left wrist mean or why the blood that flows underneath the translucent barrier is bright gold, but he feels more content than he has in a long time.

Though he falls asleep alone, he wakes up with a visitor.

The book Renjun had been eyeing at the library is laying on the floor just inside the door. Renjun’s heart comes aflame as he picks it up gingerly, running one hand across the velvet cover.

“Jaemin…” he breathes, awed at the object in his hands and touched by the thoughtful gesture. His shoulders sag again as he remembers his second obstacle, “b-but he knows I can’t…”

His roaming fingers come upon a slight gap in the pressed-together pages. Carefully, Renjun cracks open the book. A slightly wrinkled slip of parchment paper flutters to the floor, and Renjun plucks it up with a puzzled look. The words are scrawled in a wild, looped handwriting, and there are blotches of ink smudged across the edges.

_My new friend Injunnie!!!_

_Meet me by the marble statue on the fourth floor East wing at high noon._

_I found someone who can teach you!_

_Bring the book too, I hope you like it :)_

_And if anyone gives you trouble, show them this._

_P.S: I meant it when I said see you soon. Did you catch that?_

Taped to the back of the note is a sloppily forged wax seal. Renjun gapes at the clear Na family crest, a delicate star-shaped flower, pressed into the dried material. The symbol is a little off center, but he peels it off and pockets it nonetheless, and there’s a newfound strength pulling his shoulders back when he heads out for the day.

The note was unsigned, but when the sun creeps closer overhead, Renjun heads towards the East wing and resolves to ask who in their right mind allowed Jaemin near hot wax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm honestly quite nervous to be sharing this story but i really like how it turned out in the end so here we are :] i hope y'all will stick with me and enjoy the ride!!
> 
> i'm currently thinking of a twice weekly (tuesday and saturday) update schedule, but i'm...not super sure so it's subject to change (and i'd appreciate feedback on this as we go especially since the later chapters are longer and heavier heheh) rating might also change, so just keep an eye out
> 
> i'd really really love to hear your thoughts in the comments :D thanks for reading! see you soon!
> 
> twitter: [pixeljunnie](https://twitter.com/pixeljunnie)  
> curiouscat: [pixinoa](https://curiouscat.me/pixinoa)


	2. Forward,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much [mei](https://twitter.com/strdusting) for betaing !!!! 🥺💖
> 
> enjoy :D

Things look up after Na Jaemin barrels into Renjun’s life.

The young prince had begged his tutor, Kun, to extend his services to Renjun. No one seems to be impenetrable to Jaemin’s puppy eyes. However, Kun had almost instantly taken a liking to Renjun due to his work ethic and his genuine enthusiasm for learning.

“Unlike this brat over here,” Kun swats fondly at Jaemin’s head, who pouts and sticks his tongue out at them. Renjun, bent over a book, hardly spares him a look. Jaemin sulks and pokes at Renjun’s arm every few minutes despite having his own assignments to do.

“Jaemin, if you finish your reading, I’ll play outside with you.” Renjun offers, stealing a quick glance at Kun to gauge his reaction. Kun nods, knowing that using Renjun as an incentive is the only surefire way to get Jaemin focused on his work.

Renjun hides his smile between the pages as Jaemin eagerly pours over his own book. He leans over to gently correct Jaemin on a few places where he’s getting tripped up, and occasionally distracts himself by delving so deep into a topic that Kun flails, unable to give him an answer.

“You’re very clever, Renjun,” Kun tells him with an impressed smile. He wipes the lenses of his glasses with his shirt, chuckling lowly, “You may put me out of a job someday.”

Renjun blushes deeply, dipping his head in respect. “Thank you for teaching me.”

Several times, Kun has pitched the idea of an apprenticeship to Renjun. According to Kun, Renjun possesses both a unique sharpness of mind and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and deserves to be doing more than sweeping stairwells and preparing baths. Renjun can’t deny the flicker of excitement that lights within him at the idea of following his passion—and perhaps getting to see Jaemin more often while he’s at it.

“I’m done! Let’s go Injunnie, let’s go!”

Jaemin tugs excitedly at Renjun’s hand. Renjun looks to Kun for approval, and the older man releases an exasperated, yet fond sigh.

“This is why I like Renjun more than you, Jaemin.” Kun teases, but Jaemin only grins.

“Of course you do! I do, too. What’s not to like?”

Jaemin pulls a spluttering Renjun out of the study, cackling all the way to the gardens.

Renjun can only shake his head at Jaemin’s energy as he spins them in circles on the fresh grass. They crouch by the flowerbeds to prod at the bulbs beginning to poke through the softening dirt and race each other to the ornate fountain in the center of the courtyard. Renjun, exceptionally quick on his feet, wins every single race except for those that he chooses to lose.

The victorious smile on Jaemin’s face feels enough like a win for Renjun, anyways.

He’s certain that one or both of them will be pulled away at some point in the day, back to their own worlds. For now, however, Renjun relishes in the freedom that thrums between them when Jaemins fingers interlock with his own as they run wild through the wide open space.

Renjun worries sometimes about how Jaemin’s reputation might suffer from constantly being seen with him. No one dares to comment on the prince’s involvement with a servant to his face, though Renjun occasionally pays for it when the sun sinks low in the sky and the servants' chambers are haunted by the vengeful spirits cast away to the forgotten space underneath the castle.

Jaemin still deposits books at his doorstep every now and again, though he hasn’t abandoned his scheme to normalize servants using the library for their own enjoyment. Renjun treasures every single delivery, especially the crumpled up notes Jaemin leaves between the pages.

“What do you think about becoming Kun’s apprentice?” Jaemin asks him later when they’re both laying spread-eagle in the dirt, chests heaving. “You could officially help me in my lessons instead of me crashing your sessions with Kun all the time. Maybe we can even move your room closer to my private study! I just hate how they treat you down there...”

Jaemin wears his heart on his sleeve, so it’s very easy to tell when something deeply upsets him. Renjun doesn’t want pity for his situation, no matter how much the concern Jaemin shows him makes his heart squeeze oddly in his chest. Renjun does the only thing he can think of to bring that pretty smile back, which is luckily something he’s grown more comfortable with ever since Jaemin had established himself as a permanent fixture in his life—whether Renjun liked it or not.

“What, and spend more time with you? As if.” Renjun jokes, poking Jaemin in the side to tickle him.

Jaemin snorts in a very un-princely manner, hand flying up to his mouth to muffle the laughter. He props himself up on his elbow, leaning into Renjun’s personal space. The satisfied grin on Renjun’s lips freezes as Jaemin’s face blocks out the sun.

“Oh, please, you know you love me.”

“I-I do not!” Renjun chokes on his spit halfway through his sentence, embarrassment burning the tips of his ears.

“Aha, you’re lying! You’re lying Injunnie, you _love_ me!” Jaemin drawls, taking advantage of Renjun’s flustered silence to start tickling the life out of him. “You love me you love me you love m—“

Jaemin words are muffled into the ground as Renjun topples him over, giving him a taste of his own medicine. They tussle in the grass for a little while longer, laughing until their sides hurt and deep pinks and oranges start to splash across the horizon.

Jaemin offers Renjun a hand up, and Renjun takes it after swearing to the boy that he won’t pull him back onto the ground with him. They dust themselves off, desperately trying to scrub the dirt from each others’ cheeks.

_This is nice_ , Renjun thinks as Jaemin brushes some grass from Renjun’s hair, running his fingers through the reddish strands. He doesn’t have the vocabulary to name the warm feeling glowing between his ribcage, so he settles on _this is nice_.

Jaemin pauses, fingers drifting from Renjun’s scalp to land by his elbows. Wide eyed, Renjun blinks at him in confusion. Jaemin squints, leaning in unconsciously as the sun sets behind them.

“Your eyes look like the sky right now, Injunnie. I’ve never seen anything like them before.”

The glowing embers of dusk reflect in Renjun’s irises, bringing out their unnervingly vibrant amber shine. Renjun immediately averts his gaze to the ground, shoulders hiking up in shame. He consciously tucks his sharp snaggletooth behind his lip, hands flying up to make sure his hair covers the slightly pointed tips of his ears.

They’re all traits that brand him as _other_ in some way, even though he has no idea why. All he knows is that other castle workers pick on him for looking slightly different. Even some of the visiting nobles will quicken their pace as they pass him by as if he will lunge at them and tear their flesh from bone.

“I’m sorry. Are you scared? Please don’t be scared, I don’t—I don’t know why they don’t just look _normal_ —”

“Who told you that?” Jaemin’s voice cuts him off, and Renjun’s breath hitches, head snapping up again. Jaemin sounds angry, an emotion Renjun has rarely seen out of the happy-go-lucky boy. It’s a tone that sits sharp and out of place on Jaemin’s tongue, and Renjun can’t understand where it’s coming from.

“Renjun, I’m serious. Who told you your eyes are scary? They’re not, I promise. They’re beautiful, so don’t be mean to yourself, okay?” Jaemin’s grip on his elbows tightens desperately, a plea for Renjun to not break eye contact again. “I could never be scared of you, no matter _what_. That’s such a silly question.”

“Okay,” Renjun breathes, and Jaemin relaxes, entangling their hands again—as friends do.

The next months pass in a blur of dirt-smudged cheeks and spilled ink and bruised knees and _freedom_. Jaemin and Renjun relish in the childish wonder they foster when they’re together. It’s a welcome change from Jaemin’s ever increasing lessons on how to run the empire and Renjun’s fears about if dinner will be withheld from him for the third night in a row.

He knows he could tell Jaemin about his struggles, but he doesn’t want to put any strain on the young prince. It’s already a privilege for Renjun to have grown so close with the boy, and he doesn’t want to trample on that kindness. It’s still Renjun’s duty to serve the prince, no matter how his heart flutters when Jaemin grabs his hand to bring him to the funny painting he discovered by one of the second floor’s countless balconies. He may not have anyone else in the world looking out for him, but that’s not Jaemin’s problem.

When it comes down to it, Renjun will always sacrifice his feelings for the smile on Jaemin’s face. No matter what it takes.

“You’re so tiny, Injunnie!” is how Jaemin greets him after several days of not being able to meet. Jaemin’s visits during his tutoring sessions with Kun have lessened in frequency, his free time being stolen by vague princely duties that Renjun hates simply because of how they hang heavy under Jaemin’s eyelids.

Renjun excels in his studies, and Kun is beginning to draw up a plan for an apprenticeship so Renjun can repay his debt to him. Determined to be worth the effort, Renjun puts in hours and hours of extra work at the library. People have stopped trying to bar his entrance ever since Jaemin declared to the entire library that Renjun was studying there whether they liked it or not.

Moving up the ranks is far from easy, but he might have a chance at life, a _real_ life.

At the very least, he can dream.

Renjun merely rolls his eyes and tries not to wheeze in Jaemin’s bone-crushing hug. He pats the boys shoulder fondly, and is rewarded with a gentle lowering to the ground. Dusting himself off, he tries to not let Jaemin’s words stick in his mind.

He knows that his arms have grown bonier, gaunt cheeks making his naturally tiny frame look sickly. Everyone his age, including Jaemin, seems to be already hitting their growth spurts, but not Renjun. Jaemin stands a few inches taller than Renjun now, but only Renjun seems to notice how Jaemin has to look down at him slightly when he speaks.

Renjun forgets the barrier between them sometimes, but it only seems to thicken the older they grow.

Jaemin may not notice, but he’s not meant to.

It’s Renjun’s job, after all. He will carry out the role Jaemin desires him to fill, and when Jaemin inevitably outgrows him, he will gracefully return to the shadows where he belongs.

_Know your place_ , Renjun admonishes himself even as Jaemin introduces him as _My best friend, Renjun!_ to the slender boy beside him.

The boy looks him up and down with a slight quirk to his brow before reaching for Renjun’s hand and pumping it twice.

“I’m Donghyuck,” he says, and a mischievous smile lifts his lips, “I’ve come to the castle to make Ten’s life a living nightmare.”

“He’s an apprentice for one of the castle tailors,” Jaemin corrects, but Renjun is already laughing.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Donghyuck. If you must know, I’ve heard that Ten hates shellfish.”

The grin on Donghyuck’s face widens. “I think we’ll get along, Renjun.”

Though he remains remarkably smaller than most of his peers, Renjun grows into a peculiar athletic prowess. He’s light and quick on his feet, sharp reflexes able to spin on a dime and snatch a falling plate before it shatters. He wins his races against Jaemin with greater and greater ease, even when the pouting prince turns the competition into an obstacle course and makes Donghyuck judge. Renjun sails over the hurdles with such little effort that he almost forgets about the trembling in his malnourished muscles.

“Jaemin, move!”

When a thick book tips from the top shelf of the library and careens towards Jaemin’s head, Renjun is across the room in an instant to catch it with nimble fingers, pushing Jaemin flat against the bookshelf. Jaemin’s startled hands fall to his waist, but Renjun doesn’t let himself linger before he pulls away.

“You,” Renjun narrows his eyes, poking Jaemin’s chest, “need to pay better attention to your surroundings.” He waves the heavy book in his hand for emphasis.

Still pressed against the bookshelf with a surprised tinge of pink to his ears, Jaemin grins sweetly. “Why would I, when my guardian angel is watching out for me?”

Renjun slams the book into Jaemin’s stomach, ignoring the _oof_ the other boy makes, “I’ll just let it clobber you next time.”

He won’t. They both know that. But Jaemin lets Renjun have his dramatic exit, knowing that they’ll meet on their favorite bench in the courtyard in a few hours to watch the sunset together.

♛

“Renjun, help! Hide me!”

Jaemin barrels into Renjun’s petite frame, nearly bowling him over entirely. Renjun grunts, hands automatically clutching at the back of Jaemin’s shirt to steady him. The way Jaemin is scrunched up against Renjun’s body makes his heart swirl before the prince’s frenzied words sink into his awareness.

Without pausing to consider, Renjun grabs Jaemin’s hand and tears toward the end of the hallway. He may get in trouble for not finishing dusting the corridors, but Renjun isn’t thinking about consequences.

Jaemin is in trouble, and he’s come to Renjun for help.

Renjun knows the layout of the castle, especially the lower chambers, like the back of his hand. He’s had to duck away from unsavory characters plenty of times, lending him a sizable inventory of untouched corners and hidden alcoves to disappear in.

He has no idea who or what is after Jaemin, but they don’t seem like they’re being tailed at the moment. If there was a security breach, Renjun would hazard a guess that there would be alarms sounded or guards roaming the halls, but there’s no one. It doesn’t erase Jaemin’s panic, though, and Renjun can only pray that the prince is unharmed.

Adrenaline pumping, Renjun tightens his grip on Jaemin as they dart through the twisting labyrinth of hallways. His mark burns into his skin, coming aflame with the anxiety in his gut. Jaemin is barely able to keep up with Renjun’s nimble pace—how he can immediately sense a dead end coming, turn on his heel, and reroute himself within a second.

When Renjun happens upon a decent spot, a forgotten corner shrouded by a massive painting, he shoves Jaemin behind it. After making sure that the boy is completely sealed off from the rest of the hallway, he ducks into the small space to check on him.

Renjun’s hands find Jaemin’s shoulders, eyes roaming his figure to look for injuries, but Jaemin is already speaking.

“This is perfect, Injunnie! Yangyang will never find me here.” Jaemin’s eyes are wide and earnest, crouched with his fingertips drumming casually on his knees. He sneezes from the dust, but the blinding smile is restored to his face instantly.

“Wait,” Renjun tries to draw back, but there’s no space to move, “ _Yangyang?_ The son of the head chef? Did...Did he threaten you?”

“Huh? Well, kind of, I suppose.” Jaemin cocks his head and bumps his shoulder against Renjun’s, nearly knocking him out of the hiding spot, “We were playing hide and seek tag with Shotaro and Sungchan, and if I lost one more time I was going to have to give them my desserts for a week! You totally saved me.”

Jaw dropping, Renjun stares at him for a minute. He can’t formulate the words to express both his frustration at Jaemin’s recklessness and his relief that there was no threat after all. Jaemin’s carefree expression slowly dampens as Renjun’s silence stretches on.

“Unbelievable,” Renjun scoffs, immediately standing up and blowing past the painting.

“Injunnie, wait! You’re going to give our spot away!”

Renjun marches down the hall, resolving not to look back lest Jaemin catch the shimmer of tears welling up in his eyes. He was so scared for Jaemin’s safety, so _so_ scared, but Jaemin was just playing a game with the other kids in the castle—games that someone like Renjun will never be able to participate in, but he swallows back that onslaught of bitterness for another day.

“Wait, Renjun,” Jaemin finally snags the hem of Renjun’s shirt, tugging him to a stop. His voice dips low with shame, words flattening out into a serious tone. “A-Are you okay? What happened?”

They both know Renjun can beat Jaemin in a race in a heartbeat. Renjun had let him catch up.

Perhaps he wanted to be caught.

Renjun bites his lip, clenching his fists before whirling around, “I thought you were hurt, Jaemin! I thought you were actually in trouble, and I—I can’t let anything happen to you. You know that. You _scared_ me.”

Jaemin’s shoulders slump. His face scrunches up, eyes widening in alarm when he sees the stray tear roll down Renjun’s cheek before he hurriedly brushes it away, “I’m so sorry, Renjun. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’d _never_. I...I didn’t think about how you’d react, and I’m sorry.”

Jaemin’s gaze turns downcast, head drooped low. He fiddles with his fingers, sucking in a deep breath as if steeling himself to give up and turn away. He seems genuinely disturbed by frightening Renjun, and Renjun can feel himself go soft at the edges.

“Just...don’t do that again, okay? Or let me know that there’s no real danger next time,” Renjun gives in, arms dropping from where they were crossed defensively over his chest to protect his fragile heart.

Jaemin perks up, a relieved twinkle in his own watery eyes. Slowly, gently, he draws Renjun into an embrace. He tenses, ready to pull away at the slightest flicker of hesitation in Renjun’s body language, but Renjun screws his eyes shut and allows himself to cling to him.

“Thank you, Injunnie. I’ll do better, I promise. You can trust me.”

“I never stopped,” Renjun whispers into Jaemin’s shoulder, but he’s certain the words are lost in the fabric of his shirt. After another second, he pastes on his mask again and forces himself to pull back. It’s better this way.

He can’t be getting too close to the prince. It’s unbefitting of a servant, but it also puts both of them at risk of scrutiny from their respective worlds.

“I’m just glad you’re safe,” Renjun says before he can stop himself.

He’s not Jaemin’s bodyguard—far from it, in fact. It’s his duty to be whatever Jaemin wants, and what Jaemin wants seems to be a friend. It’s not Renjun’s responsibility to guard him. And yet, he’s developed a protectiveness over the boy over the years, one fostered by the genuinely loving and warm heart that has lit his path on dark nights.

“Of course!” Jaemin chirps, “I’m always safe with you. You’re my guardian angel, remember?”

He’s shaken the incident off, determined as he looks at the future as nothing but endless opportunities to better himself and prove it to the world. He links arms with Renjun as they start back down the hall. Easily disregarding the less-than-subtle stares coming from the rest of the servants as they retrace their steps, Jaemin vows to make it up to him. Renjun doesn’t know how to tell him that it will always be the other way around, so he just bumps his shoulder against Jaemin and laughs it off.

Jaemin has done so much for him, and Renjun will spend his life paying it back bit by bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3
> 
> twitter: [pixeljunnie](https://twitter.com/pixeljunnie)  
> curiouscat: [pixinoa](https://curiouscat.me/pixinoa)


	3. I Take Thee,

Renjun groans, stretching towards the ceiling as he tries to relieve the ache in his lower back. He’d been sweeping the halls all day, forced to pick up the slack from workers who had been called away for other tasks. Exhaustion runs deep into his bones, and all he wants is to collapse into warm arms and fall asleep knowing he’s safe and loved.

Renjun’s grip on the broom tightens, the splintery wood pricking him out of his drowsy and rather embarrassing thoughts. He finishes tidying up the hall at long last, shoulders slumping as he squishes his cheek against the handle. Just a minute to rest, just a minute to breathe before—

The sound of boots clacking rings from around the corner, and Renjun snaps to attention. He fiddles nervously with the hem of his uniform as Jihyo comes into view, preoccupied with a stack of papers.

“Ah, you haven’t cleaned the fireplaces yet, have you?” she says distractedly as she passes by, barely stopping to look at him. Without waiting for an answer, she waves him towards the kitchens.

Renjun smiles tightly, dipping his head in acknowledgement since it would be improper of him to speak. When Jihyo is gone, he rubs at his eyes with grubby hands and starts towards the main fireplace in the kitchens.

It’s rather quiet at this time of day, during the late afternoon hours where lunch has been wiped clean from the tables and dinner isn’t quite ready to be prepared. Only a few younger workers loiter in the back, rearranging shelves and gossiping over large bags of flour.

Renjun cracks his neck tiredly, steeling himself as approaches the mouth of the main fireplace. He blinks at it for a moment before crouching down, dragging his finger across the marble.

“It’s clean?” Renjun mumbles, staring at his hand. He rubs the pads of his fingers together, but not a speck of soot falls to the floor. Tilting his head, his eyes roam across the room for an explanation.

Someone must have come by and swept earlier, but it doesn’t make any sense. Jihyo would have known if another employee had covered his work, and she clearly didn’t realize it had already been completed. Regardless, Renjun can’t think of anyone who would do that for him.

_Except._

“Did someone clean these already?” Renjun straightens, directing his question toward the whispering cooks in the far corner of the room. They take a minute to acknowledge his presence, and the uncertain glances make the mark on Renjun’s wrist flare up with discomfort.

One of the boys, Mingyu, offers a secretive smile to the others before facing Renjun. “Oh, is that what he was doing?”

Renjun blinks through the haze of exhaustion clouding his thoughts. “I’m not following…”

Jennie crosses her arms. “We bumped into someone on our way in. He hurried away before we could ask what he was doing, but he had some soot smudged over his cheek. I guess he was cleaning.”

Renjun hums, thanking them with a bow before tucking his broom under his arm and leaving for the library. The kitchen hosts the main fireplace for cooking, but other, smaller fixtures are dotted around the castle to make winter nights curled up in the common spaces a little cozier.

Something gritty crunches under Renjun’s shoe, and he pauses. Squinting down at the floor, he spots flecks of grime trailing down the hallway. He follows the path with his eyes, brows furrowing when the soot ends at the library doors.

Whoever swept the kitchens tracked quite the mess outside. For the sake of his headache, Renjun chooses not to play detective and just brushes away the dirt as he works down the corridor.

No matter his reason for entering, his mood always lifts when he pushes open the thick wooden doors to the library. Rolling his shoulders, Renjun takes a steadying breath before averting his eyes from the room’s occupants and creeping towards the fireplace in the back.

Dark grey spots trail along the carpet even here.

Once again, Renjun is standing in front of an earnestly cleaned fireplace. It’s not perfect by any means, but there was certainly an effort to get it spotless. Hands on his hips, Renjun allows a grateful smile to play on his lips as he retreats once again.

He finds the same scene at every single fireplace in the castle. The faint trail of soot strengthens with every stop, the mystery helper gradually getting more and more dirty. When Renjun goes to dust the light fixtures, his last task of the day, he finds those finished as well.

“Huh,” Renjun muses. He tucks his dusting cloth into his belt. “I guess I’m done early.”

He scrubs the grime from his hands with a spigot in the servants quarters and puts his cleaning supplies back in their proper places. Eyelids heavy, he almost gives in to the tantalizing concept of a nap when thin arms snake around his waist and heave him into the air.

“ _Renjunnie~”_ Donghyuck croons directly into Renjun’s ear, making him swat at the boy.

“Put me down, you gremlin!”

Luckily, for both Renjun’s sanity and Donghyuck’s life, Donghyuck doesn’t have the strength to hold him up for long. He plops the smaller boy back onto the tile, wincing when Renjun massages at his back in pain.

“You okay?” Donghyuck frowns. He readjusts the bag slung over his shoulder, probably a delivery of freshly washed fabric from the laundresses to Ten’s workshop.

“Weird day,” Renjun says. He opens his mouth to continue, but truly doesn’t know what to say. He has no idea who would have gone through all the trouble to figure out his chores for the day just to complete them in advance. It doesn’t make any sense.

Maybe it was all a coincidence, or another servant got mixed up.

Donghyuck grabs him by the hand, tugging him towards the stairs. “Well if you’re done, come join us in the courtyard! We’re just about to start a game of catch.”

Renjun stifles a yawn with his free hand, “I don’t know, Hyuck, I might sit this one out.”

“Why, do you still have tasks to do? Jaemin asked for you.”

_Oh_.

Renjun can never say no to Jaemin, after all.

“No, I—I mean, I guess I’m free,” Renjun realizes as he tries to match Donghyuck’s pace through the castle. Spare time is a luxury rarely known to people like Renjun, so he might as well take full advantage of the gift his soot-covered guardian angel left for him.

Donghyuck bursts through the courtyard doors with a victorious yell, attracting the attention of a far off cluster of boys. He raises their linked hands to the sky and shakes them vigorously, showing off his prize to the group.

“Renjun is going to join us!”

Renjun leans forward, hand pressed to his chest to catch his breath when Donghyuck finally releases him. The other boys greet him enthusiastically with whoops and whistles. Sungchan gives him a welcoming pat on the back that nearly sends him flying.

“Glad to have you with us, Injunnie.”

When Renjun looks up, Jaemin is beaming at him with such joy it could knock him over.

He nods faintly, most of his energy focused on keeping himself awake as they start the game. Jaemin cackles loudly whenever he wins or Donghyuck loses, and Mark and Jisung make every effort to include Renjun. It’s warm despite the dipping temperatures as the sun sinks lower in the sky, silly giggles bursting from their lips as they roll through the grass and tackle each other with limbs flying.

Eventually, Renjun’s exhaustion wins out and he settles himself on the side, content to watch the rowdy boys tussle in the twilight. Before long, there’s another form beside him.

“You’re missing out on all the fun,” Renjun yawns, but Jaemin just smiles at him.

“No, I’m not,” he presses his shoulder up against Renjun’s, encouraging the tense boy to relax into him. Renjun is too tired to protest about etiquette and melts against Jaemin’s side.

His heavy eyes slip closed. He only realizes that Jaemin has maneuvered Renjun’s head into his lap when he opens his eyes to be met with the underside of Jaemin’s jaw. Sensing the stir, Jaemin peeks down at him.

“Rest,” he whispers, running a quick hand through Renjun’s hair. Renjun doesn’t have the energy nor the courage to ask him to do it again, no matter how nice it felt. He’s already toeing a dangerous line with this position, but if Jaemin is encouraging this, Renjun won’t deny him.

Jaemin’s lips purse into a surprised little ‘o’ when Renjun’s thumb presses into his cheek, rubbing at the skin gently.

“I knew it.”

Barely clinging to consciousness, Renjun smiles fondly, bringing his hand back against his own chest.

“Soot,” he mumbles, “Thank you, Nana.”

The last thing he senses before he falls into the best sleep he’s had in a long time is the sharp intake of breath from above him.

Months pass in a gold tinged haze. Renjun works hard and rests even harder under Jaemin’s constant worry. He makes sure one way or another that Renjun is able to relax and have fun every now and then. The other boys welcome his presence with open arms. It’s a nice change from the hostile whispers and fleeting glares Renjun is used to from everyone that isn’t Jaemin.

It’s frightening, but sometimes Renjun feels so dangerously close to tasting happiness.

Renjun cradles these precious moments of warmth close to his freezing heart, clinging to the fading feeling of gentle fingers combing through his hair on nights that grow darker than the rest.

The other shadows that line the servant’s quarters seethe whenever Jaemin walks Renjun to his room. They melt off the walls as soon as the prince is gone, tugging at Renjun’s delicately pointed ears and sneering at him, calling him nothing more than the prince’s pathetic little _pet_.

Renjun slams the door shut behind him, breathing heavily as he presses his body weight against the thick wood. He may not have much of a bed, a space to move around in, or a lock on his door to keep the sharp claws and hurtful words out, but he’s endlessly grateful to not be forced to share a room with other servants. He doesn’t know if he’d make it out alive.

He knows it’s not their fault—it isn’t his, either. Not even the worms writhing in the dirt outside, strung out and scorched in the unforgiving sun, would envy their lives.

Renjun is just an easy target.

He curls up on his damp wooden floor and carefully peels the bandages off his wrist.

Jaemin would be furious to hear him thinking this way, but Renjun can’t help but accept the fate he was born into. He doesn’t mind being the prince’s pathetic little pet, if that means he can stay by Jaemin’s side and protect him until his last breath.

The cloth around his wrist, once a dingy cream color, is soiled with dirt and fraying at the edges. It’s all Renjun has, though, and it will be more important than ever as the summer heat sets in and he starts getting side-eyed for his long sleeved shirts.

Renjun lays the bandage out on the floor, sponging gently at the dirt with some water from a nearby basin. He tucks his knees into his chest as he waits for the covering to dry, bringing his forearm up to his face.

They’re still there.

Five claw mark shapes rake down his wrist, edged in gold. A glass-like barrier is set into the scratches like a scab to a wound, and Renjun can see his veins mapped out like crossed strings underneath the window. The blood that flows through them isn’t red, but a deep gold.

His wrist shimmers a faint yellow in the dim light, and the itch simmering under his skin has only grown stronger as the years have passed. He’s not sure how he knows, but he’s certain the tingling at his fingertips is the stain of magic, and that it isn’t a good thing.

Renjun sighs, running the fingertips of his right hand over the exposed area. He doesn’t understand what the claws mean, but he’s always known his safety hinges on covering it up. He was brought to the castle with a handkerchief wrapped around his wrist, hiding the mark for as long as he could remember.

The mark is unnatural and frightening, sure, but the frozen fear that prickles along the back of Renjun’s neck when he has to expose it runs deeper than just not wanting to be made fun of by his peers. There’s a primal, animalistic instinct lurking deep in Renjun’s chest, driving him to protect the area no matter what.

Deeming the bandage to be as clean as it’s going to get, Renjun starts to rewrap it. The fabric has grown thinner and thinner over the years, and it nearly unravels between Renjun’s fingertips. It’s essentially transparent against his skin, ineffective at hiding the mark.

“Shit,” Renjun mutters under his breath, peeling off the worn material. Maybe it’ll work if he doubles it up.

His fingers shake as he rearranges the bandages in a way that he hopes is vaguely secure. He briefly considers tearing a strip of fabric off his shirt or bedsheet, but he doesn’t want to be accused of vandalism against the castle’s belongings. He’s gotten in trouble for more ridiculous reasons, after all.

A stray screw lays on the ground near the door, and Renjun pierces it between the two overlapping ends of the material. It’s far from the most sanitary clasp, but Renjun is out of options until he can steal a new set of bandages from the castle infirmary. He slumps against the wall, head bumping the cold stone.

Renjun wonders if this is all life has to offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're enjoying !! see you soon <3
> 
> twitter: [pixeljunnie](https://twitter.com/pixeljunnie)  
> curiouscat: [pixinoa](https://curiouscat.me/pixinoa)


	4. My Beloved,

“I can’t do this!” Jaemin whines, throwing his arms into the air.

Renjun sighs and combs his hair back with one hand. His chair squeaks as he pushes it back and makes his way to Jaemin’s side. “What’s wrong?”

He’s comfortable enough to drop the formalities at Jaemin’s insistence since they are alone in the study, but his muscles remain slightly tensed at all times, ready to snap back into his proper role at the slightest hint of a disturbance.

Jaemin digs the heels of his hands deep into his eye sockets, letting out a drawn out groan. His books lay scattered and crumpled on the desk in front of them. Clearly their study session isn’t going well for the crown prince.

“I just can’t keep this all straight, Injunnie! There’s so much to remember, and I just...I can’t do it. I’m not cut out for this.” Jaemin’s shoulders sag. His eyes look far too weary for his young face, and Renjun feels his heart squeeze. 

Jaemin doesn’t often show his insecure side, not even to Renjun. He prefers to remain bright and cheery to please everyone else, which makes it all the more alarming when Renjun spies a tear slip under his palm and slide down his cheek.

“Hey, hey, don’t say that,” Renjun shushes him, gently prying his hands away from his face. Jaemin’s eyes are red rimmed, and he avoids meeting Renjun’s gaze. Renjun hesitates for a moment, knowing his place and yet deciding to cross this line.

_For Jaemin._

He grips Jaemin’s chin, tilting his head up so the prince is forced to meet his gaze. “Deep breaths,” he instructs softly, pressing a hand to Jaemin’s shoulder and modeling a calming breathing pattern for him to follow, “Just like that. Good.”

Jaemin still looks so defeated, but he’s calmed down a little. Renjun searches his face for a moment. “Jaemin, listen to me. You are going to be an amazing king. You have a heart of gold and know how to charm a crowd, and you’re so much smarter than you give yourself credit for. It’s a long way away, anyways, so there’s no need to get ahead of yourself. I’m always here if you need some extra help studying. You know that.”

Jaemin’s eyes are sparkling in the low light. “Really, Injunnie? You...You really think that?”

“Of course!” Renjun huffs, leaning back and crossing his arms. “You’d have to be an utter idiot not to see your potential. I won’t let you be an idiot, Na Jaemin.”

Finally, a hint of a smile cracks through Jaemin’s downtrodden expression. He scrubs the last of the tears from his eyes, sitting up straight and placing his palms flat on the desk again. “Okay. Okay. I can do this.”

He sits rigid for a few minutes, staring blankly at the open book before him. His eyebrows inch further and further together with each passing second, and Renjun touches his shoulder to shake him out of it before he can snap again.

Renjun lifts the heavy book off the surface and plops it into his lap, paging through it for a minute.

“Alright, let’s take this one chapter at a time. I’m going to quiz you on the kingdom’s currency first, so—”

“Wait, Renjun...don’t you have better things to do? You have your own projects and lessons. I know how much you love all those books you get from the library, and you’re already overworked...” Jaemin interrupts. 

Renjun sighs as he sees the selfless mask slide back into place behind his eyes. Jaemin tries to wave him off, but Renjun persists.

“I only have those books because of _you_ , Jaemin. This is the least I can do, and I want to help. Please, let me help,” his voice dips into a whisper on the last few words, and Jaemin holds his tense gaze for only a moment before caving.

“Just this chapter, okay? And then you can do what _you_ want to do.”

“Deal,” Renjun says just to make Jaemin happy. He knows they’ll work on more than just one chapter. They’ll review whatever Jaemin needs to get him back on the right track, but Renjun doesn’t mind a bit of extra work.

Not when it’s Jaemin.

They sit there until the room grows dark with the onset of night. Jaemin’s shoulders are hiked up in determination, tongue poking through his lips. His strength wins out over the insecurity burdening him, and Renjun couldn’t be more proud to see him grow.

“Same time next week,” Renjun says as he pushes his chair back. He cracks his knuckles and doesn’t wait for Jaemin’s protests before packing up the materials and pushing them into Jaemin’s chest.

Jaemin looks conflicted for only a moment before he accepts the books. A grateful smile flashes on his face, but it’s quickly replaced by dramatically pursed lips and a flirty fluttering of his eyelashes, “If you wanted to spend more time with me, you could’ve just asked. You know I’ll always clear my schedule for you!” 

“Don’t get all gross on me now,” Renjun scowls despite the thumping in his chest. He pokes both of Jaemin’s cheeks to force out the air puffing them up, and they both muffle laughter at the sound, “Don’t forget I’m doing you a favor.”

“Yeah,” Jaemin’s eyes soften, “You are.”

Unable to hold Jaemin’s intense stare, Renjun gulps, bids him a good night, and closes the door behind himself.

The next time a book lands on Renjun’s doorstep, it’s shielding two blueberry muffins and a small assortment of cheese and crackers in its shadow. It must be a token of thanks from Jaemin for the extra tutoring lessons.

The bits of dried blueberry are sweet on his tongue, the flakey cake singing in his mouth. The snacks ease the gnawing in his stomach, and he can feel his awareness sharpen as the fog of hunger fades.

It’s not much, but it’s the best meal Renjun’s had in ages. 

He tells Jaemin that much when he runs into him later in the day. Jaemin is getting fitted for more formal clothing in Donghyuck and Ten’s tailor’s quarters when Renjun bursts in with a delivery. He has an extra spring in his step that day since breakfast is a luxury he often is not awarded. His tasks, while still grueling, feel much kinder on his joints and calloused hands when he has some energy sizzling in his muscles.

Overcome with gratitude, Renjun breaks his own rules. He drops the delivery and throws his arms around Jaemin’s neck, careful not to jostle any of the pins stuck into the hem of the robe the prince is being fitted for.

“Injunnie!” Jaemin exclaims in surprise, but there's a smile lifting the corners of his words. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“Yeah, what’s got you so chipper?” Donghyuck snarks from the floor where he’s pawing through the forgotten delivery, “You’re lucky this is only fabric.”

“Thank you for the breakfast. It was amazing! I haven’t eaten like that in ages,” Renjun beams, stepping back. Jaemin’s happy expression twists a little, and Renjun chews on his lip in uncertainty. “That was you, wasn’t it? The muffins and stuff?”

“W-Well, yeah, but I wouldn’t really call it breakfast...I mean, I’m glad you liked it, I thought you were a fan of blueberries! But that wasn’t nutritious at all. I thought—I thought you had something else to eat with it?” Jaemin’s voice pitches up in concern. The prince’s hands had settled on his back, patting gently as Renjun struggles to formulate an answer.

An embarrassed flush burns red hot into his cheeks as Renjun stands there, frozen. Of course a breakfast like that, treasure to Renjun, would be like stale crumbs to Jaemin. 

It was thoughtful of Jaemin to gift him the snacks. Renjun is the fool here for allowing himself to get so excited about something so pitifully insignificant, only emphasizing the divide between them. He’s like the pesky family dog being fed unwanted scraps under the table.

He shouldn’t have forgotten his place.

“Thank you anyways,” Renjun says in a strangled, barely audible voice. He bows low when he pulls away, hoping his folded posture and shaggy hair can hide the shame dusted over his face. Jaemin calls his name in confusion at the formal display, but Renjun makes himself scarce before Jaemin can pull out the pins rooting him to the tailor’s platform and follow.

The prince’s stricken voice floats through the thick door as Renjun escapes down the hallway. “Did I say something wrong?”

There’s a comical _whack_ , presumably from Ten’s hand making contact with his own forehead, “Servants aren’t usually given breakfast, Jaemin. He wasn’t lying when he said he hasn’t eaten like that in, well, probably ever.”

Renjun forces himself out of earshot before his heart can crack any more. It’s okay—this is good for him. The more it cracks, the more he can fill up the splinters with glue until it’s too heavy to flutter in his chest whenever Jaemin flashes his smile in his direction.

Renjun wakes up the next day to an enthusiastic knocking at his door.

Bleary-eyed, he opens it with caution. There are few people who would visit him with good intentions, and he’s certain they’re all still asleep.

To his surprise, he finds Heejin on the other side of the door, crunching on a piece of toast with peanut butter. She has a glass of half frozen orange juice in the other hand and is grinning widely.

“Good morning, Renjun! I think I’ve woken up in an alternate dimension today. Any thoughts?”

Heejin is one of the few servants that Renjun gets along well with since she never antagonizes him for his features or odd mannerisms. Renjun leans against the doorframe and quirks a brow.

“Good morning, Heejin. Where did you get that?”

Still chewing, Heejin points to the floor. In front of Renjun’s room, a plate is set with a piece of toast, an apple, scrambled eggs, and a few strips of meat. A room temperature glass of juice sits beside it, further away from the door to prevent it from being knocked over.

Heejin gestures to the rest of the hallway. Identical plates are set in front of almost every door, bar the extra early risers like Heejin who presumably have already taken their share. “I just woke up to all this. Is it a holiday, or something? None of the servants did this, but I don’t know who else would…”

Renjun glances down at his plate. The jam on his toast is drawn in the shape of a star shaped flower.

“I have no idea,” he lies, biting back a smile, “but they’re very sweet to do this for us.”

A small crash and a whispered “ _ouch!_ ” sounds from around the corner, and Renjun tugs at Heejin’s wrist with a tight smile to keep her from investigating.

“You don’t want to be late to hang up Lady Na’s laundry, right Heejin?” he says pleasantly, pushing her gently towards the opposite end of the hallway. Heejin snaps her fingers in realization, downing the rest of her orange juice and chomping at her toast as her pace picks up.

“Ah, you’re right. Thanks, Renjun!”

As soon as she turns the corner, black ponytail swinging behind her, Renjun releases a fond sigh and relaxes against the wall. He stares straight ahead, a tender smile playing on his lips.

“Good morning, Jaemin.”

Hesitant fingers curl around the edges of the stone wall, a mop of black hair and sparkly doe eyes peeking out as well. After a second, Jaemin shuffles around the corner in full, hands wringing nervously by his waist.

“‘Mornin’, Injunnie,” he whispers, “How did you know it was me?”

Renjun swallows hard, willing the tears in his eyes to recede. “Only you would have a heart big enough to do all this. I mean, waking up early, preparing all the food, sneaking it down here...I have no idea how you pulled it off, but thank you.”

“Injunnie, this is...this is like the bare minimum, okay? You’re all employees of the castle, you deserve respect! You should never have to worry about your well being like this, and I just…” Jaemin clenches a fist, scrubbing at his eyes as his voice thickens, “I didn’t realize things were so bad. I just want to help. I want to make things right. I don’t have that kind of power yet—God, I wish I could do _more_ —but I’ll do what I can. I’m not going to leave you behind, Renjun.”

Renjun steps over his breakfast and directly into Jaemin’s chest, squeezing him close. “You may not see it, Jaemin, but you’ve already done so much for us just by caring.”

Jaemin’s arms tighten around Renjun, who is kind enough not to mention the soft sniffles accompanying the apologies whispered into his shoulder. After a few minutes, Renjun pats the boy’s back softly.

“I didn’t know you could cook, Jaemin.”

“Oh, I can’t. I really tried, though! I woke up an extra two hours early to use the kitchens, but I burnt the first several batches of scrambled eggs. I think the smoke woke Yangyang up, and he helped me out before I set the entire castle on fire.”

Renjun laughs, pulling back. He scoops up his plate with one hand and grabs Jaemin’s sleeve with the other.

“Now, what do you say we repay Yangyang by helping him scrape the burnt scrambled egg residue from his father’s pans before the rest of the kitchen staff wakes up?”

Jaemin shrugs, trotting down the hallway. “I’m happy with anything as long as I get to be with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on the shorter side this time, but at least you get a few days to savor the last bit of pure cuteness ur gonna get for a while~
> 
> let me know what you think <3
> 
> twitter: [pixeljunnie](https://twitter.com/pixeljunnie)  
> curiouscat: [pixinoa](https://curiouscat.me/pixinoa)


	5. To Have

Their tutoring lessons are slowly paying off, but there are still days where Jaemin wants to reject the life set up for him. Renjun knows he’ll never abandon the throne; his selflessness and love for his kingdom are the paperweights on the young prince’s shoulders that keep him grounded. He’s normally able to put his own feelings aside for the sake of the future of his people, but it isn’t always easy.

“Why do I have to learn all this stuff, anyways?” Jaemin closes his book with an exasperated sigh. He slumps forward dramatically, forehead pressed to the front cover. Renjun taps his elbow to get him to sit properly.

“Jaemin, we’ve been over this. You need to know the kingdom’s history inside and out to be prepared to handle future trade deals. Edel has been negotiating an alliance with Airetsi for decades now, so that relationship will most likely become your responsibility.” Kun pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger with a tired sigh.

“Why Airetsi, though?” Jaemin scowls into his book, finger flicking aimlessly at the pages. “All this stuff about their policies doesn’t seem very nice. I mean, why are they so against people with magic? I’d understand if they were dangerous that they’d need to be eliminated for the safety of the kingdom, but so many of the encounters in here seem to be about hunting down people who weren’t bothering anyone. Why do we need an alliance with a kingdom like that so badly?”

Renjun goes rigid. He tries to hide the tension locking up his muscles by gluing his eyes to his own assignment, pretending like he’s stumped. He hopes the clench of his jaw comes off as frustration against the task rather than a suppressed whine from the mark scorching red hot against his skin.

Inside, he’s panicking. His thoughts are racing a mile a minute as he tries to swallow down the lump of fear in his throat. He’s only ever heard magic discussed in low whispers traded under the cover of night, from the lips of silhouettes that hurry through the halls and cast cautious glances behind them.

Kun hums. “I don’t know, honestly. It’s a bond your father has been fostering for years, but I’m not privy to the reasons why. Airesti’s policy on Vivids, the magic-born, is one of the harshest in the surrounding lands, and is what sets them apart aside from their harbor ports and production of luxury fabrics and dyes.”

Jaemin’s gaze drifts towards the window as he ponders the information. 

Renjun always knew magic was not a good thing to hold. He knew his mark oozed an energy that he didn’t understand and couldn’t harness, he knew he’d have to hide it from the world for the rest of his life, he _knew_ that it branded him for death.

But somehow, hearing out loud about the persecution of people like him makes that inherent knowledge feel so much heavier, settling between the bones of his ribs and rooting him to the floor. 

It feels so much more real like this, and that frightens Renjun to the core.

“I don’t _have_ to maintain the alliance with Airesti when I’m King, right?” Jaemin taps at his lip, eyes distant as he muses. “I can change things once I’m in power?”

Kun shifts in his seat. “Well, there are a lot of laws that you would need to work around, and change is never instant. But yes, once you’re in power, you can push for whatever relationships you want with neighboring kingdoms, be it strengthening or severing ties. That’s a while away, though, so let’s focus on the state of the kingdom right now before coming up with anything drastic.”

Renjun wills his hands to stop shaking where he has them clasped in his lap. Jaemin hasn’t outright supported or denounced the policies against the magic born—or Vivids, as Kun had called them, and he’s choosing to interpret that as a good sign. He can’t bear to consider the alternative.

It seems Edel has their own methods on targeting and banishing Vivids, but none are as extreme as Airesti. Renjun should be okay if he lays low and keeps his secret-stuffed heart guarded close to his chest, like he has always tried to do.

Jaemin’s dark hair curls over his forehead. Some strands drift lazily into his eyes from the gentle breeze creeping through the cracked open window. He’s focused on the book again, a slight furrow to his brows as he sucks his lower lip between his teeth in thought. The light pouring into the room highlights his side profile and shimmers across his cheekbones.

Renjun tears his eyes away, fists clenching under the table. Crown Prince Na Jaemin _cannot_ be what sends his carefully constructed house of cards crumbling. 

Renjun needs to be more careful.

But then Jaemin is leaning on the windowsill, excitedly pointing out a pretty bird across the courtyard, and Renjun melts. The history book lays closed on the desk, and Renjun can almost force himself to forget the horrors it holds.

Almost.

He can’t say no to Jaemin, though, so twenty minutes later finds the pair crouched by an untouched flower bed. Jaemin is determined to plant an apple tree in the corner of the courtyard using the seeds he saved from breakfast. Renjun has tried to warn him that it will probably need a particular type of soil, sun exposure, and water, but Jaemin won’t be swayed.

“I’ll water them every morning. Jisung said singing to plants makes them happy, so I’ll do that too. Then in a few years, we’ll have a huge apple tree to sit under, and we’ll have plenty of apples to go around!” Jaemin blows his bangs out of his eyes, tamping the soil down with the heel of his hand. 

Renjun can only muster up a weak smile in response as he watches the prince dig out a little hole in the dirt for each seed. The overheard conversation from earlier leaves an itchy residue coating his skin that he can’t seem to shake off. 

Renjun reaches around Jaemin to grab a stray leaf and a few pebbles. He fashions a crude place marker in front of the flowerbed so Jaemin won’t forget where he planted. It takes him longer than he expected to arrange the stones on the corners of the leaf. He thinks he might be keeping up a conversation with Jaemin, but none of the words process.

There’s an uneasy twisting deep in his gut. He feels wrong, out of place, as if he’s being watched with every breath. He’s like an animal scurrying along the palace floors, waiting for someone to trap him and finally cleanse the place of the sin he stains with every wretched footstep. He’s a blemish on the kingdom, overstaying a welcome he never had to begin with, and it’s only a matter of time until it all unravels.

He hands Jaemin a bowl to sprinkle water over his next seedling, but some sloshes over the side and dribbles onto the dark dirt. 

“Sorry,” Renjun whispers, but Jaemin isn’t looking at the flowerbed. He sets down the bowl, apple tree project abandoned for the moment, and reaches for Renjun’s hands.

The sudden movement towards Renjun’s wrist sends alarm bells screaming through his head, and he snatches his arms back on reflex. Jaemin freezes where he kneels, hands held up in surrender.

“You’re shaking, Renjun,” Jaemin says gently, “Are you okay?”

Renjun’s gaze darts to his fingertips. A droplet of cloudy water slides down his thumb. Indeed, there are small tremors rattling through his body. He immediately hides his hands behind his back, plastering on a placating smile.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Ja—”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Injunnie,” Jaemin cuts him off, “I wish you would talk to me, but I’m not going to force you.” He lets the words hang in the air for a moment, chewing on his lip. His eyes search Renjun’s face carefully. Pocketing the remaining seeds, Jaemin stands up and brushes himself off. “Care for an adventure?”

“What about the rest of the apple trees? The more you plant, the better chance you have, you know.” Renjun’s finger digs into one of the unused divots in the soil. The grittiness of the dirt anchors him.

Jaemin shrugs. “I know. But I can do that tomorrow. Right now, I feel like you need a better distraction than this. What do you think?”

Instinctively, like the gentleman he is, Jaemin moves to offer a hand to help Renjun up. His brain catches up a split second later, and he tenses, mouth dropping in a preemptive apology. Renjun moves faster, as he always does.

He accepts the extended hand and pulls himself to his feet. Jaemin looks a little stunned, but a relieved smile curves his lips.

“Is that a yes? You can say no, I promise. People always feel bad saying no to me, but I’m strong. I can take it.” Jaemin’s hand thumps emphatically at his chest.

Renjun feels his heart warm. He knows that the crown prince is one of the most dangerous people in the castle for someone like him, but that doesn’t change the fact that Jaemin is where Renjun always feels the safest.

“Well? Let’s get on with it, then. My time is very precious, so this better be worth it,” Renjun swats at Jaemin’s arm, trying to rekindle the playful spirit they normally have. It’s weaker than usual, but Jaemin kindly doesn’t point out the way Renjun’s hands are still trembling.

Jaemin fills the empty space with aimless rambling as he leads them back to the castle. The background noise is enough to keep Renjun from diving too deep in his own head, but doesn’t require enough participation from Renjun to be taxing. He just lets Jaemin prattle on about the spider he saw crawl across Sungchan’s foot in the main hall the other day, or his ranking of the top five worst places in the castle to nap in.

The flow of soft words suddenly stops, bringing Renjun back to reality. Jaemin is holding up a reassuring hand at the guard in front of them, who steps to the side with a dip of his head.

Renjun looks around. With a jolt, he realizes they’ve somehow come to a part of the castle he doesn’t recognize.

The halls are much more extravagant, with dark cherry wood floors laid delicately under their feet and glossy tapestries adorning the walls. Nervousness sets into Renjun’s shoulders again as it dawns on him that this must be the royal family’s living spaces, somewhere a servant as lowly as Renjun has never been allowed.

He doesn’t get to stand and gape for too long, though, because Jaemin is soon guiding him down the hallway. After a few more twists and turns, they reach a door that nearly blends into the wall.

Jaemin ushers Renjun up the shallow, twisting staircase hiding behind the door, and they eventually emerge into a dainty little tower.

There’s a thin layer of dust coating the room, betraying its disuse. It’s relatively empty besides a bench pushed up against the wall and an arched window to let the sunset stream in.

“I don’t come here too often...well, no one does,” Jaemin grunts as he struggles to open the halfway rusted frame, “But I really think it offers the best view of the grounds.”

Renjun peers out the window. It’s by far the highest up he’s ever been, and the altitude is almost dizzying to a boy used to prowling the bowels of the castle. 

The courtyard stretches out beneath them. Renjun searches for the site of Jaemin’s unborn apple orchard. It looks like a tiny speck amongst the vibrant flowers and lush bushes visible from their vantage point. Renjun can see all the way to the castle walls that seem to brush the sky when he’s on the ground.

With a sharp gasp, he realizes how much he can see beyond the walls. A forest sprawls out in the distance, birds swooping and diving at the tops of the trees. Even further out, dots of light speckle the horizon.

“That’s the inner capital,” Jaemin says, far closer to Renjun than he had expected. Renjun jumps a little, jostled out of his awed trance, and Jaemin laughs. “It’s grounding to me to see all the lights out there. It’s like...I don’t know. It’s like it reminds me that at the end of the day I’m just a person trying my best, just like each one of those lights. I get overwhelmed sometimes and feel like I can’t handle the life everyone has seemed to pick out for me. But within every glimmering star under that sunset there’s a person probably going through the same growing pains. It makes me feel like I’m not alone. I hope it helps you, too.”

Jaemin’s upper arm is pressed against Renjun’s as they stand wedged in the window frame. 

Renjun’s eyes roam across the scene. The sun is dipping low in the sky, coloring the clouds a soft purple. The night air is fresh on his clammy skin and the world below feels impossibly boundless, putty at his fingertips.

“It’s breathtaking, Jaemin.”

Jaemin visibly relaxes. “Well, you’re in for a treat once the sun finishes setting. It looks like it’s a clear night, so we’ll be able to see the stars really well.”

The smile on Renjun’s face freezes as his wandering eyes snag on dark shapes moving away from the castle doors. Jaemin is still chattering about the stars, clearly unaware of the altercation happening below them.

A small figure is being brutally dragged away from the mouth of the castle by what must be at least three guards. Their legs kick desperately in the chokehold, and Renjun is certain that if he wasn’t so far away, he’d be able to hear their cries. 

Before the shadow-shrouded cluster disappears through the first of the castle’s many gates, a glint of blue catches Renjun’s eye. Imperceptibly, he leans forward, forehead nearly knocking against the frame.

The faint light of the lamps by the gate reflect off a layer of frost crusted into one of the guards’s uniforms. The captive’s fingers clench, and the ice creeps a little further across the fabric. A flash of white eyes and an all too familiar swinging black ponytail are imprinted on the insides of Renjun’s eyelids before the prisoner is swallowed up by the darkness.

Numb, Renjun smiles and nods along to Jaemin’s mini lecture about the legends behind his favorite constellations. He feels his mouth move and his vocal cords flex, understands that the wood under his fingertips should be prickly and the breath so close to his cheek should be warm, but nothing sticks to his senses. 

He bobs his head enthusiastically when Jaemin directs his gaze to what should probably be stars, but all Renjun can see is terrified white irises and frosty blue snowflakes. 

Jaemin walks him back to his room. Renjun spends the rest of the night curled up on his side, staring at the damp walls as he prays that he misinterpreted the horror that unfolded right before his eyes.

Heejin doesn’t greet him the next morning. She’s nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D:
> 
> twitter: [pixeljunnie](https://twitter.com/pixeljunnie)  
> curiouscat: [pixinoa](https://curiouscat.me/pixinoa)


	6. And To Hold

Donghyuck has made it his personal mission to get Renjun in as much trouble as possible, Renjun decides.

“Faster, faster!” Donghyuck throws his head back in maniacal laughter as their footsteps pound across the cool stone.

“I’m never baking with you ever again!” Renjun wheezes between breaths. Even his scarily good speed is no match for the even scarier Lee Donghyuck.

“How was _I_ supposed to know it’d explode like that?!”

They burst out into the courtyard, and Renjun takes the lead since he knows the layout like the back of his hand. They dive behind a large bush, effectively hiding them from the angry batter-splattered chefs pursuing them.

“You are full of bad ideas, Lee Donghyuck,” Renjun glares at him, but the other boy just laughs.

“You had fun though, didn’t you? You need more of that...especially lately.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Renjun grumbles as he flicks chunks of failed tart remnants from his uniform. It’ll take forever to scrub the stains out of one of his only pieces of clothing, but Donghyuck is right. As much as he hates to admit defeat to the boy, he _did_ have fun.

After waging war after endless war at night to keep the shivers of an unknown grief at bay, he can only fake a smile for so long as he watches the doom drip down his walls. It feels nice to run free, even if it’s only a fleeting reprieve from his ever-mounting fear.

“It’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s not nearly as bad as when Prince Jaemin first snuck into the kitchens to make all the servants breakfast. He’s getting better, though! According to Yangyang they’ve only needed to replace six pieces of equipment since he started messing around in the kitchens, which is kind of a shame because I was betting on him breaking at least ten by now. I hate losing to Y—”

“Wait, wait,” Renjun holds up a hand to cut Donghyuck off, “Jaemin is still doing that? _Himself?_ I...I thought he’d have transferred over that responsibility to the chefs by now...”

Donghyuck eyes him closely. Renjun leans back further and further as the boy invades his personal space, looking him up and down critically. “No, it’s still him. The last I heard, he’s working on some changes to make delivering breakfast to _all_ workers part of the kitchen’s daily routine, but it hasn’t been implemented yet. Until then, he’s been waking up extra early with whatever staff will follow him—which is a lot, he’s kind of a fan favorite around here—to do his best. Bless his heart.”

“Oh,” Renjun swallows, “That’s...very sweet of him.”

Both of Donghyuck’s hands come up to squish Renjun’s cheeks. “Ooh, are you _blushing_ , Renjunnie? He does it all for you, you know, so you’d have to be an idiot to not be at least a little bit flustered.”

With Renjun’s reflexes, it only takes a split second for him to grasp Donghyuck’s wrists, wrench them off his face, and twist them behind his back. Donghyuck squeals, crying for mercy. When Renjun releases him, he scowls and rubs at his wrists.

“You are so mean to me! I’m just saying, Jaemin cares a lot for you. He was really torn up that day in the tailor’s studio when you ran out like that.”

Renjun hums, flopping onto his back in the dewy grass. Donghyuck follows his lead, and they stare up at the clouds drifting across the sky beyond the hanging branches of the bush.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Renjun lifts his head, but Donghyuck isn’t looking at him. His arms are tucked behind his head casually, and he’s watching a bee perch on the edge of a wildflower a few feet away from them.

“Do you care for him, too?”

Renjun’s breath hitches. Of _course_ he cares about Jaemin. But when he opens his mouth to answer, the mark on his wrist sears into the surrounding flesh, and he bites his tongue.

“He’s the prince,” Renjun says weakly, gaze returning to the bright blue sky. “Isn’t it our duty to care for the royal family?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Renjun knows exactly what Donghyuck was asking. His true answer is far too dangerous to ever be voiced, so he swallows it down every time it bubbles up from his heart.

The more he thinks about it, the more he feels himself fall. But with all his secrets, he has a long way to fall, and there’s nothing he can do except back away from the edge of the cliff. Renjun is just there for as long as Jaemin wants him around, and no more.

“I do,” Renjun whispers, but he isn’t sure which question he’s answering.

One of the clouds almost looks like a claw, but it’s gone as soon as it comes.

♛

Renjun hates short sleeves.

There’s some sort of semi-formal brunch happening in the North courtyard. Renjun has been tasked with serving the visiting nobles and washing the dishes.

He dons the servant’s uniform appropriate for the occasion, a navy blue tunic with short sleeves and a white belt. Fiddling with the nearly threadbare bandage wrapped around his wrist, he can only hope that it will stay together without his usual long sleeves caging it in.

Sweeping his hair to the side, Renjun practices his fake smile in the reflection of the scummy water in the basin before heading out for the day.

The majority of the brunch goes off without a hitch. Jaemin is there, as expected, and Renjun pointedly avoids eye contact.

It isn’t uncommon to see the two together, since Jaemin has long since made it his duty to ensure that everyone in the castle knows how dear Renjun is to him. However, both of them are working right now, and Renjun knows that any strikes stemming from Jaemin’s distractions will only harm his record. He can’t afford that.

He does, however, appreciate the small morsels of the delicious meal that Jaemin discretely presses into his hand whenever he passes his table.

Renjun doesn’t even notice when disaster first strikes.

One of the visiting princesses doesn’t like the drink she requested. With a disgusted curl to her lip, she hands it to Renjun with more force than necessary, and some of the bubbling liquid sloshes over the lip of the glass. Renjun doesn’t point out the incident, only dips his head in a soft apology and moves away.

He’s about to continue collecting glasses when a sharp intake of breath sounds from close by. Jaemin, seated across from the princess in what was probably a calculated move to force some sort of bond between them, is staring at him with widening eyes.

Not him, but his _wrist._

Renjun gasps, gaze snapping down to where the bandage should be. The sparkling beverage had soaked into the last fraying threads of the material, dissolving it in large patches. A few soggy pieces have already fallen to his feet, and his mark shines through as clear as the midmorning sky hung over their heads.

Renjun stumbles back on trembling legs, pure terror rooting him to his spot. His vision blurs at the edges, heart twisting up into his throat. He has just enough sense to clutch his wrist with his other hand, but his fingers feel numb.

His shoulders start to shake as his eyes dart around the space, desperately searching for a solution. He’s never felt so vulnerable, so exposed in front of all these people. Some wild instinct embedded deep within his brain is slamming against the front of his skull, begging him to run.

He needs to escape. He needs to be safe.

No one has noticed him yet. Renjun has never been more grateful for the way the nobility always treats him like an ant under their shoes, not important enough to spare a glance at unless he’s useful to them in some way. He doesn’t exist to them until they wish him to, and right now that’s all he can ask for.

In the midst of the chaos swirling in his brain, Renjun’s eyes land on Jaemin.

“Renjun, I need your help, um,” Jaemin trails off, immediately launching into action and maneuvering himself around the edge of the table even before he starts to speak, “fixing the rip in my pants!”

Without waiting for approval, Jaemin grabs Renjun’s limp left hand and _pulls._ Someone shouts Jaemin’s name as the brunch disappears behind them, but neither of them pay any attention. Renjun can only focus on the warmth of Jaemin’s fingers, how familiar this position is.

“J-Jaemin…”

Unlike all the other times a bouncy Jaemin has taken his hand and run to explore the world, the prince refuses to look back at him.

Gaze trained firmly ahead, Jaemin rushes them through winding passageways until they reach a rarely used closet in a quieter part of the castle.

Jaemin pries open the door and ushers Renjun inside. The tiny space is fairly empty, pitch black except for the single rusted light bulb overhead. Renjun’s chest heaves with suppressed sobs, breath rattling around in his throat. He grabs desperately at Jaemin’s sleeve with his free hand, trying to voice his pleas.

“Jae-Jaemin, I...I can—” Renjun’s jaw snaps shut because he _can’t_ explain. He doesn’t know what he would say, he can’t even describe _why_ it’s such a horrific thing to have his wrist exposed. Jaemin would never understand. Not even Renjun himself understands who— _what_ he is.

The prince won’t look up from the floor. “Renjun, calm down. Deep breaths, okay? I’ll be right back. I promise.”

Without meeting his eyes, Jaemin shuffles around him and fumbles with the doorknob before slipping out the door. The light that escapes from the hallway briefly carves a slice across Renjun’s shaking frame, and then the prince is gone.

Renjun presses a hand to his mouth to muffle the sobs erupting from his aching heart. He staggers back until his heels hit the wall, sinking to the floor with his muscles locked up in terror.

“Oh, God,” Renjun whimpers in the dark, sharp canines piercing his lower lip until he can taste blood. Hot tears roll down his cheeks, reducing him to a pitiful, sniffling mess.

He’s really done it now. Renjun just _knows_ that this mark brands him as something foul, something _other._ He’s already on thin ice with the rest of the castle, but once they see how truly abhorrent, how _magic-tainted_ he is, they’ll…

Renjun doesn’t know. He’s never met anyone like himself, and he takes that as a bad sign.

Renjun has always worn something over his left wrist, and it has become a normal sight within the castle. As a child, Renjun would do anything asked of him—from the most foul of chores to the most cruel of beatings, but he would never, _ever_ show his wrist.

He assumes everyone believes it to be for their own benefit, as if there lies some horrific, grotesque burn underneath. It’s not a lie, not exactly, but Jaemin must surely hate him after finding out that Renjun has kept his true nature—whatever that is—hidden from him. Renjun has _betrayed_ him, his closest friend.

 _Fuck._ Of all the people to discover his disgusting mark and the magic bleeding from its edges, it had to be the crown prince. Jaemin could have him beheaded within hours.

 _He wouldn’t do that to me,_ Renjun desperately appeals to the shadows watching from the opposite wall, _right?_

The shadows have never had kind answers for him.

Renjun wraps his arms around himself, huddling into the corner to make himself as small as possible. His hands shake in front of his face as he turns his despair on himself, scratching at the mocking symbol of his wretched, mysterious, unnatural nature.

The pain that sears across his entire body is immediate and _intense_ , sending ripples of red-hot agony through each of his nerves. Renjun instantly stops raking his fingernails over the mark, clapping his right hand over it and squeezing hard to numb the pain. His entire body burns like he’d been dipped into a fire and left there to roast like an animal.

Renjun is in so much trouble.

Jaemin is his friend, he knows this. He also knows how deeply hated the magic born, _Vivids,_ are by the royal family. Renjun isn’t sure if he falls exactly in that category since there’s so much he doesn’t know about himself, but he’s certainly not _normal._

Jaemin has never fit into any of the royal family’s stereotypes, but there’s a first time for everything. Surely he must prioritize the safety of the kingdom over the life of a friend—a meager _servant_ at that, no one special.

After all, Jaemin is the crown prince. Renjun imagines that there’s no shortage of potential friends at his fingertips. Replacing Renjun won’t be a difficult process.

Knuckles rap against the wooden door, jostling Renjun out of the gaping maw of fears that slither into his mouth and stick his teeth together like tar.

“Are you, um...” Jaemin clears his throat, “...decent?”

Renjun blinks the remaining tears from his bleary eyes. Jaemin is probably standing outside with guards at each shoulder, ready to drag him away and throw him into the dungeons like a criminal, or worse.

_Just like Heejin._

There’s nothing Renjun can do. He might as well surrender peacefully; maybe they’ll go easy on him. Though, he’s not sure exile is better than death.

He doesn’t have anywhere else to go, anyways.

“Yeah,” Renjun croaks, releasing a watery, hysterical laugh as he buries his face in his knees.

It’s over.

The knob turns, and Jaemin squeezes himself through the empty space. A metallic clanging comes from the corner nearest to the door, a quiet, “Ah, _fuck!_ Stupid bucket!” following suit.

Renjun sniffles, and Jaemin’s shadow drenched figure zeroes in on him. “There you are, Injunnie!”

Renjun rubs at his eyes, making sure that the sight in front of him isn’t fabricated by his tear clogged vision. Jaemin has a cloth clenched in his right hand, his left flung out and patting across the wall as he tries to locate Renjun’s position. His eyes are squeezed firmly shut.

“Jaemin?” Renjun doesn’t understand, “W-Where are the guards? Aren’t you going to take me away? I’m not...norm—”

“Don’t say that!” Jaemin snaps, before softening. He’s arguing with the wall, but Renjun chooses not to interrupt, “I told you, Renjun, there’s nothing wrong with you. Please, be nicer to yourself.”

Jaemin carefully picks his way through the room, only tripping on the uneven floorboards a few times, and deposits himself at Renjun’s side. He sticks an open hand out, wiggling it around in clear invitation.

“I’m not going to look,” he promises, “I wouldn’t do that to you. Trust me, I don’t want to hurt you.”

_Trust me._

There’s a whisper of a plea hidden in the spaces between Jaemin’s words, voice soft underneath the dusty lighting.

Renjun hiccups. Figuring he has nothing left to lose, he gingerly places his left arm in Jaemin’s welcoming hold. He’s at Jaemin’s mercy more than ever.

And Jaemin doesn’t let him down.

The boy smooths out the swath of fabric on his thigh. It’s a little crumpled from his hand, but he manages to straighten it out nicely. True to his word, he keeps his eyes screwed shut, even when he struggles to place the material correctly without being able to look.

Renjun jolts when Jaemin first grazes the pale skin of his inner wrist, just above where the glass claw marks begin. His breath catches, and he nearly tears away from Jaemin’s grip.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jaemin soothes him as if calming down a spooked animal, “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Renjun. I won’t hurt you. You’re safe with me.”

The fabric is silky and smooth against Renjun’s chafed skin. Wherever his fingertips make contact, Jaemin caresses so gently that Renjun’s heart stutters for a different reason. Jaemin wraps Renjun’s wrist securely, but not so tightly that it cuts off his circulation. It’s a very fine line that he didn’t realize Jaemin knew how to walk.

“And here, to keep it all together,” Renjun shivers when Jaemin suddenly speaks next to his head, breath ghosting over the shell of his ear, “a little surprise.”

A strangled noise of confusion tears from Renjun’s throat as something clicks into place on his wrist. It’s too dark to see properly, but the silvery metal flashes in the few splashes of ashy light. Renjun almost thinks he’s been handcuffed until he holds his forearm up to the light.

His wrist is covered in a flesh toned fabric. It has some shine to it when he rotates it through the patch of light, but it otherwise seems to blend into his skin, at least from a distance. Most importantly, the mark of magic is completely covered, not a wrinkle out of place to even hint at something lying beneath the fabric.

And there’s a bracelet clasped around his wrist.

It’s simple, a delicate silver chain with a little charm hanging from the middle. Renjun squints, examining it closer. An _R_ is engraved in a fanciful script on the tiny circle of metal.

“It’s a friendship bracelet,” Jaemin supplies. He holds his own wrist up, nearly smacking Renjun across the face since he still hasn’t opened his eyes. An identical chain, but with a _J_ carved into the charm, twinkles on his own arm. “D-Don’t feel pressured to keep it if you don’t want to, but I thought it’d be good to keep the cloth together because it’s adjustable, so. You should be able to make it tight enough to feel secure without it hurting? But if that doesn’t work that’s okay, you don’t have to accept just because I—”

“Jaemin,” Renjun cuts him off, and Jaemin swallows his rambles with a nervous gulp, “I love it. Thank you. Just...really, thank you.”

Renjun hopes Jaemin can feel that his gratitude radiates far deeper than just the bracelets, which are already an incredibly sweet gesture. Renjun is thanking Jaemin for keeping him alive, for trusting in him, for sticking by his side.

It’s a kindness Renjun won’t forget.

Renjun’s fingers trail along the bracelet in awe, relishing in the cool metal against his skin. Jaemin clears his throat, shifting from side to side in the silence, and Renjun laughs wetly when he tells Jaemin it’s okay to open his eyes.

The worried crease between Jaemin’s brows smooths out when his gaze falls upon the thin boy standing in the pooled light. He smiles softly, rubbing at his neck in slight embarrassment, “I’m glad you like it. I made them a few days ago and just wasn’t sure when to offer you yours.”

Renjun’s heartbeat is slowing in his chest, the liquid fire thrumming under his skin dimming to a gentle simmer. He moves his arm around a little, and the covering doesn’t budge. “It’s perfect, Jaemin. This is perfect. Where did you get all this?”

“Donghyuck smuggled the fabric out when Ten wasn’t looking—that devil is a master at distractions. I thought a material that’s close to your skin tone and light enough to not bother you in the heat would be a perfect match.” Jaemin steps closer, and Renjun doesn’t flinch away when he gently angles Renjun’s forearm towards the light.

Near the base of his thumb, a small star-shaped flower is embroidered into the cloth. It’s so tiny, stitched with a skin-toned thread to blend easily into the rest of the material, but it’s there.

“The fabric is technically royal property, by the way. Hopefully it can scare off the people who are bothering you,“ Jaemin says softly, a tinge of sadness dampening the edges of his voice. Renjun tries to protest, but Jaemin’s voice hardens, “Donghyuck has told me about some of the things he’s overheard when he makes deliveries to the lower chambers. I wish you’d stand up for yourself more. You’re worth it, Renjun.”

Jaemin is too nice for his own good, and it’s going to burn him someday. Renjun feels his eyes start to water again, overwhelmed by being shown love like he’s never seen it before. Renjun has been alone all his life because he’s never deserved anything better. He still doesn’t.

“But...why?”

Jaemin’s face falls, but he doesn’t step back. He’s close, so close. The dim light snags on the watery shine in his eyes, “Do I need a reason to care about you?”

Footsteps sound from the hallway, shaking them both from their bubbling emotions. Jaemin moves towards the door and Renjun releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I guess I should go do damage control,” Jaemin says lightly, but Renjun knows that his blunder has genuinely put Jaemin in a difficult situation. The brunch seems to have been more important than Renjun first gave it credit for, and he’s essentially stolen the guest of honor from the heart of it without explanation.

“I’m sorry to trouble you,” Renjun croaks, “I ruined the event, didn’t I?”

Jaemin’s fingers land on the doorknob. He quickly scans up and down the hallway to ensure that the coast is clear, then turns back to Renjun with a brilliant smile before disappearing into the depths of the castle.

“You’re always worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ao3 user princepixel unable to let go of the 2018 jaemren couple bracelets okay we get it 😒
> 
> let me know what you think ! <3
> 
> twitter: [pixeljunnie](https://twitter.com/pixeljunnie)  
> curiouscat: [pixinoa](https://curiouscat.me/pixinoa)


	7. In Sickness

Jaemin falls ill.

It’s not uncommon for Renjun to not see the prince for long stretches of time. He stifles the longing in his heart with the knowledge that the separation is good for him. It humbles him, a symbol that this silly friendship with the prince will flicker out one day as Jaemin prepares for his ascent to the throne.

It’s a reminder of how their paths are destined to diverge, because Renjun will always be left behind amongst the shadows on the wall.

Donghyuck is bothering him out in the gardens—though Donghyuck would protest that _Renjun_ is the one bothering _him,_ because technically he was there first—when they hear the news.

“Donghyuck, for the last time, I’m not going to help you hem all of Ten’s pants a half-inch shorter to make him think he’s grown taller. I don’t know how to sew, and aren’t you trying to annoy him? Won’t he be happy if he thinks he hit a growth spurt at age twenty-two?”

Renjun wipes the sweat from his brow as he moves on to the next flowerbed. Weeding the gardens isn’t the worst job a servant can be put to, even though the heat of the sun makes his bangs stick to his forehead. Donghyuck reclines against whatever bench is closest, constantly relocating to keep up the conversation as Renjun works his way from one side of the area to the other.

“I don’t know, I’m feeling charitable today. And I went really hard on him last week by using pliers to close the holes of all the sewing needles we have,” Donghyuck says casually, shrugging at Renjun when he levels him with an incredulous look, “What? I needed the day off. I have boys to romance.”

“I truly have no clue how you still have this apprenticeship, Hyuck,” Renjun sighs, shaking his head as he digs the dirt out from under his chipped fingernails. He bends down to quickly check on Jaemin’s little apple orchard. Renjun waters the flowerbed whenever Jaemin forgets, which is becoming more and more often these days. He’s excited to show Jaemin the tiny sprouts poking through the soil the next time he sees him.

Whenever that is.

Donghyuck hums dismissively as he brushes his fingers over the star shaped petals of an edelweiss flower at the edge of the bed.

Renjun always takes extra good care of the edelweisses. They’re the famous symbol of the Na family, and are often collected from the gardens to decorate the halls on special occasions.

“Hyuck!” Someone calls from across the garden.

Donghyuck’s attention drifts over Renjun’s left shoulder. “Ooh, speaking of boys to romance!”

Renjun turns around as the voice grows louder, flicking the dirt off his uniform and dipping his head in acknowledgement at the newcomer.

Yangyang throws Renjun a puzzled look before settling himself on the bench beside Donghyuck. The other boy is constantly brimming with energy, but today there’s an odd edge to the normally mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Hey, Hyuck! How’s the plan coming along? Don’t tell me you put the crushed berry dyes in the castle’s shampoos without me!”

“ _Donghyuck_ —” Renjun groans as said gremlin throws his head back in a victorious cackle. Yangyang sits up a little straighter, plopping his chin in his hand and furrowing his brows.

“You know, I’m really surprised to see you here, Renjun,” Yangyang says absentmindedly, and the back of Renjun’s neck prickles.

“What does that mean?” he asks slowly, reaching down to finish weeding the flowerbed. Did he mix up his schedule and miss something? He ponders for a moment, but he can’t think of another place he’d be needed.

“You’re just, like, always by Jaemin’s side,” Yangyang chews on a piece of grass, “I figured you’d be hovering over him like a fretful mother hen.”

Renjun wants to protest, but the pit in his stomach lodges into his throat, choking off his words. The stems in his hands slip onto the open dirt and his spine straightens with alarm. “What? Did something happen to him?”

Renjun’s world grows a little fuzzy at the edges, but he can still make out Yangyang’s words.

“He fell ill a few days ago. He hasn’t been conscious very often, and they can’t figure out what’s wrong with him. There are some more doctors arriving tomorrow morning from farther out in the countryside. It’s been quite the commotion; you really haven’t heard?”

Renjun’s frown deepens. The royal family must not have seen it fit to inform their lowest ranking servants of the development. If any of his fellow workers were tasked with attending to the boy, they clearly weren’t of the few that treated Renjun kindly enough to let him know.

He wants to kick himself for not checking up on the prince more often. He’s no doctor, but _fuck_ he could’ve done _something,_ could’ve been there to press a cool washcloth to Jaemin’s forehead, could’ve camped out by his bed and waited for him to wake up just to hold his hand and tell him he’ll be okay.

Keeping his distance to protect his heart and his secret is not worth abandoning his prince. Nothing is worth leaving Jaemin’s side.

Renjun mechanically finishes pruning the bushes, Yangyang and Donghyuck’s chattering drowned out by the pounding of his thoughts against his skull. When he cleans his hands off with the nearby water spigot, he lingers for just a little too long, gaze faraway and feet hesitant.

Jaemin must be so scared.

A hand lands heavy on Renjun’s shoulder, making him visibly jolt. Donghyuck’s eyes are warm and understanding, a sympathetic smile curving on his lips, “I bet Shotaro can help sneak you into Jaemin’s room. He’s crafty like that, and I’m pretty sure he’d be the one delivering Jaemin’s meals.”

Renjun stares at him wide-eyed until Donghyuck nudges him lightheartedly towards the castle. “Go on, I know you want to see him.”

 _I shouldn’t_ , Renjun bites his lip, fingertips drifting to the place where his forearm meets the cloth wrist wrap, _but I can’t just leave him._

Jaemin has never left Renjun behind, after all. It’s mere courtesy to return the gesture.

Certainly it’s _courtesy_ that leads Renjun to beg Shotaro to let him carry Jaemin’s dinner to him. It’s nothing but reasonable concern for a member of the royal family that drives the worry deeper into his heart as he climbs the polished stairs with a plate balanced in one hand.

Renjun isn’t technically allowed in the royal family’s private chambers, so he’s glad to have Shotaro hovering by his shoulders to convince the guards to let them through. He’s even more grateful when Shotaro pauses outside Jaemin’s door, ushering Renjun in ahead of him with a soft, knowing smile.

“I think he needs you more than anyone right now,” Shotaro says kindly, “I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”

Renjun swallows hard, bowing low in thanks. He slips into the room, blinking as his eyes adjust to the low light. Only a candle by Jaemin’s bed is lit so as to not overload the boy’s senses whenever he wakes up.

Renjun first secures the curtains on the far side of the room. He lingers by the window to make sure that just the right amount of fresh air is getting in. Eyes trained firmly on the velvet rippling in the breeze in front of him, Renjun realizes he’s terrified of facing the person he fought to come here for.

He just doesn’t want to see his prince hurt. But Shotaro can only cover him for so long, so Renjun shouldn’t dawdle.

Slowly, Renjun makes his way to Jaemin’s side. His heart squeezes as he takes in the shivering form before him. Jaemin has never looked so small, so _vulnerable_ swaddled in his blankets. There’s a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead, and a frown pulls at his lips even as he sleeps. His skin is flushed red in some places and frighteningly devoid of color in others, and the bruises under his eyes are dark. Every so often, he whimpers low in his throat, brows scrunching with distress.

Renjun hates this. Jaemin is always so vibrant, full of life and terrible jokes and ambitious declarations. It feels horribly wrong to see him so curled up and defeated and in _pain_. Renjun just wants to take it all away, carry it on his own shoulders so Jaemin doesn’t ever have to know such suffering.

He still looks angelic, though. Renjun doubts anything could ever change that.

Renjun sighs, unable to stop his lip from trembling as he brushes Jaemin’s sweaty, matted hair out of his face. The skin underneath is burning to the touch.

“I’m sorry I took so long, but I’m here now,” Renjun murmurs, “I’ll do better. I’ll protect you better, I won’t leave you to suffer alone ever again.”

Renjun chokes back the emotion bubbling up in his chest. Jaemin’s features seem to relax the slightest bit with Renjun’s gentle touches, so he continues untangling Jaemin’s hair. It gives him something to focus on other than Jaemin’s pitiful frame. “I...I’m not meant to get close to you, Jaemin, but I’ll always watch over you from afar. I hope you know I’ll always be a few steps behind you, ready to catch you if you fall.”

Subconsciously, Renjun’s fingers float from Jaemin’s scalp to reverently trace down the planes of his cheeks. This close, Renjun can count each eyelash that flutters gracefully against Jaemin’s flushed skin. The boy stirs, but doesn’t show any signs of waking. Fear sinks its claws into Renjun’s lungs, but he trusts that Jaemin will recover.

Jaemin has never broken Renjun’s trust before, and Renjun will be damned if he lets him start here.

His right hand is still delicately cupping Jaemin’s cheek when his left hand drifts to Jaemin’s outstretched wrist. He absentmindedly rubs little circles into the skin, more for his own comfort than for Jaemin’s sake.

“Please be okay,” Renjun whispers, willing his voice not to crack despite no one being around to hear it, “ _Heal,_ _Jaemin._ ”

Emotion surges in Renjun’s chest, a strange warmth emanating from underneath the cloth secured around his wrist. His worry sets his blood alive with electricity, and it crackles underneath his skin as he blinks back the tears threatening his eyes. He’s so upset that his veins burn with energy, and he can feel the fire bleed through the top layer of his skin.

“You’ll be okay, Jaemin, don’t worry. You don’t have to be scared. I’m here.”

Suddenly, the fingers brushing against Renjun’s skin twitch. Renjun’s gaze finally tears away from Jaemin’s deathly pale lips, snapping to where their hands meet. Jaemin’s hand is groggily reaching for Renjun’s, but Renjun—

Renjun gasps in horror at the pale gold glow edging his fingertips. The patches of Jaemin’s skin where Renjun’s fingers make contact pulse a similar hue, and Renjun can see the glimmers of gold seep from his hand and light up through Jaemin’s webbing veins. Renjun’s mark burns fiercely, and a dizziness clouds his head as he feels his magic flow away from him.

 _Magic._ Shit, _shit_.

Terrified that he’s hurting the poor boy, Renjun recoils. Jaemin’s lips pull back into a frown at the loss of warmth, and he deliriously strains for Renjun’s touch again. Renjun’s hands shake as he stares at the flecks of light still crawling up Jaemin’s arm.

Oh, God, he just used _magic_ on _Crown Prince Na Jaemin_. Renjun didn’t know he was even capable of that. It was already risky to come here, but now he’s gone and left tangible marks of his curse on one of the most important, carefully monitored figures in the palace.

Renjun is going to die for this mistake.

But then Jaemin’s bleary eyes crack open, and Renjun can’t regret his reckless move because whatever he did _worked._

Jaemin isn’t burning up as badly when Renjun presses a desperate hand to his forehead. He nearly sobs in relief as the color sinks back into Jaemin’s pallid features. The magic transferred to him has melted into his skin entirely, the only hints of gold left being the flecks of shimmering light ringing his irises.

Jaemin’s gaze is hazy, eyes half-lidded and drowsy, but there’s a flicker of recognition that passes through them. A tender smile twitches weakly at his lips, and his arm trembles as he lifts it to cradle Renjun’s hand against his cheek.

“M’ guardian angel,” he slurs, and Renjun’s heart _aches_.

“Yeah,” he rasps out eventually, “That’s me. I’m here, Nana,” but Jaemin has already fallen back to sleep. His breaths are no longer shallow and stuttering, whistling between his teeth and rattling in his chest like they were before. He seems much more stable now, and the furrow of his brows has smoothed out.

He looks peaceful. Renjun barely restrains himself from dropping a kiss on his forehead.

A sharp knock at the door from Shotaro signals Renjun to say his goodbyes. He sways as he steps away from the bedside, a headache pulsing behind his eyes. Even with his sapped strength, he checks to make sure that Jaemin’s food is still warm and the temperature of the room is just how he likes it and the candle isn’t placed too close to his sheets.

It’s always worth it if it’s Jaemin.

♛

The next morning, two women in cleanly pressed white uniforms pass Renjun near the front of the castle.

“I’ve never seen anything like it, Ningning. Just yesterday His Highness was running a dangerously high fever and was barely able to sustain consciousness for more than a few minutes, and now he’s completely healed, even up and walking? It’s so curious.”

“It’s a miracle,” the other woman adjusts her glasses, voice fading as the pair continue down the hallway, “I suppose His Highness got on the good side of the gods.”

“Not a bad place to be.”

Renjun swallows hard and ducks his head, finishing his chores robotically. There’s a lump of fear forming in his throat from feeling so exposed. Instinctively, his right hand fumbles with the edge of the cloth on his wrist. The smooth fabric under his fingers calms him, reassures him that his secret is still safe.

For now.

Jaemin’s recovery certainly is nothing short of miraculous; Renjun just prays no one tries to find out where the miracle came from.

Renjun doesn’t know how he did it, but he doesn’t regret it. How could he, if Jaemin is safe and healthy?

Keeping his head hung low to avoid eye contact, he hurries back to his tiny living quarters. He would love to go visit Jaemin and check on his condition himself, but there are more eyes than usual on the boy at the moment, and he can’t take the risk.

Renjun breathes a sigh of relief as he barricades himself in the room. He has a little time to unwind before his body gives out on him for the night.

Underneath his bed, he’s been storing the books that Jaemin has slipped to him over the years. Many texts he’s able to read within the walls of the library, but it feels so special to have a collection of his own to turn to when he’s shut out by the rest of the world. He doesn’t know how the books aren’t missed, but Jaemin always finds a way.

Renjun sings softly to himself as he paws through the books, looking for a new one to delve into before sleeping. Perhaps he’ll read up on the kingdom’s irrigation systems to help Jaemin in their next study session, or—

“What’s this?” Renjun muses, fingers finding an out of place ridge on the pressed together pages of one of the books at the top of the pile. Upon closer inspection, it seems like an additional page has been wedged into the book.

Curiosity sparked, Renjun curls up on his bed and smooths one hand over the cover. It isn’t dusty like the rest of the texts become despite his best efforts at tending to the collection. He doesn’t recognize it or remember when he got it.

The book has a brand new cover hastily slid over the front even though the spine and pages seem well worn. The title boasts _A History of Edelian River Erosion_ , which seems monotonous to say the least.

Renjun’s confusion only grows when he cracks open the book. The first chapter details the nutritional components of various types of native Edelian plants, which isn’t what Renjun had been expecting based on the cover. Sure enough, when he peeks underneath the paper covering, the book underneath is completely different.

Perhaps the mismatched cover is a mistake. Renjun flips to where the misaligned page is, wondering if the pages had begun detaching from the spine and weren’t fixed before the book was closed. He should have some glue lying around to patch that up.

Instead, Renjun’s eyes widen at the page in front of him. He frantically checks to make sure his door is firmly shut, blood freezing in his veins with fear. For once, he’s glad his room doesn’t have any windows save for the tiny slat carved out near the ceiling, because no one can ever, _ever_ know about the information resting in his hands right now.

A page from an entirely different book has been shoved between the pages. The handwritten ink is slightly smudged, and little drawings and diagrams dot the margins.

It’s about _Vivids._

Renjun’s heart thumps loudly in his chest as he reads. The excerpt has _Elemental_ scrawled across the top, and a short paragraph and a few miscellaneous notes follow.

_Elemental Vivids have extraordinary manipulation over fire, water, ice, earth, air, light, and other categories related to natural elements. Most Elementals specialize in only one element, though control over derivatives of their element and parts of others can be gained upon intensive practice. Since they don’t have nonhuman physical features, they blend in seamlessly with society unless they are actively using their abilities. Control over their powers is difficult without adequate training, as daily life surrounds them with their birth-given element at all times. These are the most common types of Vivids._

_Abundance: Very common. _

_Safety risk: Depends on type of element and degree of control. _

_Tolerance: Persecuted._

“Heejin…” Renjun whispers, sorrow clogging his lungs. Heejin must have been an Elemental. As far as Renjun knows, she had been raised her entire life in the castle. Magic was not to be spoken of in the kingdom, especially within the castle walls.

He wonders if she had any idea who— _what_ she was, or if she had been dragged away without ever realizing the ice creeping from her fingertips was her own doing, and that it was something that could have been controlled with practice.

Gritting his teeth, Renjun keeps going. The back of the excerpt details several types of magical charms and artifacts.

One is called the Stone of Vitality, a gemstone said to miraculously replenish life and energy when activated, even slowing the aging process with repeated exposure. Another is the Fortune Charm, which offers potent luck magic to the user. Still other descriptions detail more fantastical objects like pendants that can harden the user’s skin to make them impervious to harm and rings that can turn the wearer entirely invisible.

To his dismay, he’s met with a droning essay about Edel’s various wildflowers when he turns the page. Renjun flips back to the front of the book and combs through the pages one by one, desperately hoping to find another treasure sandwiched between the boring information.

“Finally,” Renjun’s hand fists at his chest in relief when he comes across another journal excerpt. This one seems to be hidden much better, carefully pasted into the book instead of floating loosely like the other page. Whoever stashed away these pages knew their words could get them killed.

Renjun drinks in every drop of information about this shunned side of society. His eyes rove across the fragile, yellowed paper, hunting meticulously through the book to find every single piece.

A horrible coil of dread twists up his insides when he lands on one of the pages. His fingers shake as he gently pries it away from the book’s bindings, muscles threatening to collapse with horror. The ancient volume lays forgotten as Renjun sinks to the floor, knees pulled up against his chest and hand pressed to his mouth to muffle his sobs.

The entry is titled _Volpyx Vivids._ On the top right hand corner of the entry, five familiar claw marks are scratched into the parchment.

Renjun rarely takes off his covering beyond washing it. He never feels safe, not even in the supposed comfort of his own space. But this...he has to know.

He’s trembling when he unhooks the bracelet clasp and peels the cloth back. The dread creeps up his body to lock his jaw shut, suppressing his cries of fear. His wretched mark perfectly matches the drawing in the book and he is so _fucking scared._

He can’t stop reading, can’t stop letting the inked words wash over him and beat at his skull until he’s forced to succumb to their venom, can’t stop his heart from bleeding out letter by letter.

_The Volpyx are a unique type of Vivid. Hybrid Vivids are rare enough, but Volpyx are the only known full shifters, as they have the ability to transform into fox form with practice. Some fox-like features carry into their human appearances, though they are exceptionally crafty and can still blend in among unsuspecting humans. They have heightened intelligence, agility, and wit, and possess incredibly powerful healing magic that can turn destructive if used in fox form._

_This species’s magic originates from a five pronged claw mark somewhere on their body, which serves as the source of their life force, and thus is their single weakest point. Volpyx are extremely difficult to find and kill_ — _essentially immortal_ — _but it can and has been done. They are thought to be extinct after years of hunting by experts in the field._

_Abundance: Extinct. _

_Safety risk: Very dangerous. _

_Tolerance: Highly persecuted_— _most targeted of all Vivids._

Renjun’s world crumbles away from his fingertips, and he’s left to grasp desperately at the fragments floating just out of reach. Even the familiar stone walls closing him in seem hostile now, sharp toothed shadows circling his ceiling, waiting for him to surrender his cursed form. He gasps for breath, hunching further into himself as if his hands over his face could protect him from the words on the page.

_Very dangerous. Most targeted. Hunted._

A weak whimper escapes his lips. His mark flares with a scorching pain he can hardly register beyond the merciless tearing of his heartstrings. Tears trickle down his cheeks, weeping for family he never knew and a life he never lived. Head swimming with an icy cold grief he can’t understand, Renjun barely notices himself slam the book closed and toss it aside.

_Extinct._

He wails, feeling the full weight of his identity and all it means slam into his gut. No one will come to check on him, not even if he sobs until reborn sunlight peeks through his tiny cell window. Not even the warm light of day can cleanse the phantom filth from his crumpled form.

_Extinct. Extinct. Extinct._

Everyone was right. His sharp teeth are dangerous, his pointed ears are unsettling, his pale eyes are disgusting. Magic is such a forbidden topic that no one close enough to notice these signs knew what they meant, and yet almost everyone around Renjun could sense something was off about him. He’s _unnatural_. Renjun deserves the sneers, the cruel looks, the mocking remarks.

It's for the best that he has been an outcast since day one. The less people he loves, the less he’ll hurt, and the less he’ll be hurt by.

_Hunted. Hated. Harmful._

Renjun’s fingers tangle frantically in his hair, tugging at the strands until they hurt.

Jaemin can never know about this, _never._ Renjun can only hope and wish and _pray_ that the prince was too delirious to understand what happened at the height of his illness, and that he’ll forget the brunch incident with time.

 _God_ , there are people that hunt beasts like Renjun. He wonders if they’re still out there, and if anyone knows he exists.

If Renjun is exposed, Jaemin will have no choice but to follow the kingdom’s protocol. He can’t allow the prince to go through the pain of exiling or executing him.

Renjun doesn’t deserve the prince’s good graces, but that doesn’t change the fact that Jaemin _does_ care about him, just like Donghyuck said, and something like that would destroy him.

He can’t allow Jaemin to jeopardize his ability to rule. He won’t give his unpredictable magic the chance to harm the most important person in his life.

After what feels like hours, Renjun claws his way out of his devastation with thick resignation settling in the cracks of his heart. He has no choice but to forge on like his world hasn’t been shifted on his axis, like he doesn’t feel his skin crawl when he remembers his mark or his stomach turn when he catches his amber eyes flash in the reflection of the water basin.

Renjun will take this secret to the grave, even if death is closer than he anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ,,,, i swear i did not mean to steal the name of a pokemon 💔 i thought i was so unique for adapting the name from the italian word for fox leave me ALONE
> 
> so renjun got some answers ! i'm sure it's not what he wanted to hear but <3 what do you think?
> 
> twitter: [pixeljunnie](https://twitter.com/pixeljunnie)  
> curiouscat: [pixinoa](https://curiouscat.me/pixinoa)


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